Movie Sequalfic  FULL VERSION STARTING CHAP 5
by Fanatical-Chick
Summary: [2007 Movieverse] 6 months after the battle of Mission City, everything seems quiet until Starscream returns to deliver Bumblebee a startlingly incapacitating attack and the Decepticons plot their revenge. Involves G1 characters. Paring: SamXMikaela
1. Chapter 1

Hey There. So yeah…I've finally started writing another fanfic. Stupid Transformers movie and all the awesome fanfics I've been reading have gotten into my brain meats and made me want to write my first fanfic in YEARS!!! This one won't be as…well…**emo** as my last ones. Haha Yes, I'll openly admit how emo those were. XD

I decided, though, to start by simply typing up a few of the scenes for my story that have been floating around in my head the most. It's a sequel to the movie, set about 6 months afterwards, and brings in characters from the G1 series like Prowl, Hound, Wheeljack, and Red Alert for the Autobots and Soundwave with Ravage and Lazerbeak and Rumble for the Decepticons, plus uses Barricade and Skorponok since they weren't given any real deaths in the movie that we know of.

The idea for the fic actually started while watching the movie for the first time. I couldn't get over how adorable Bee was, and wanted to draw him, but alas, I cannot draw mech for the life of me, so I started plotting drawing Human Bee, a theme in Transfandom that I didn't know was so popular until after I started drawing him and found lots of Human Autobot art on Deviantart. Rofl I'm so unoriginal.

Of course, fanart led to the ideas for a fanfic, and I was uncontrollably compelled to write it down, if only to justify why I was drawing Human Bee, and later, Human Ratchet (Though that particular version of Ratchet does not show up in this story…as far as I know so far.)

So yes, this is a bunch of teaser clips I suppose you could say of the story and what it will be like if I ever get it done. Some are meant for funny, some are meant for suspense, and some are just…there. For plot development or for Waffy giggly feelings.

I COULD find ways to put Sambee into it…'cause God knows that all the wonderful Sambee fics on have turned me from a staunchly Anti-TF romance person to an uncontrollable Sambee fangirl. -- I blame you aaaaaalll!!! And love you at the same time!!! Alas, though, I don't really have any honest desire to turn this into Sambee at this point. I may have it happen in my head at certain points, but I probably won't ever put it in the story in written form. Unless it's my own personal "unreleased" version. hehehe… 3!

God, Sambee should NOT be such a hot pairing…I'm totally going to Hell. TToTT Robots don't mate! Why would Bee want to mate with Sam??? Sam has Mikaela, WHYYYY would he even THINK about hooking up with his giant yellow alien robot car guy friend??????? It's SO unreasonable!!!

And yet I can't get enough of it…shivers There needs to be more Sambee on for me to read… I'm such a pervert!!!

Anyway, the sections I put up are going to be mostly in no particular order, because I don't know what order they'll be in in the story quite yet. I have a rough idea, but nothing specific quite yet.

And a note on the segment with Human Bumblebee sitting on Optimus' hand: That's NOT intended to be OptimusXBee. Er…at least not…in the romantic way. I guess you could call it OptimusXBee in a fatherly, paternally loving sort of way. I absolutely ADORE Optimus, and have found myself thinking he was a sexy bot, too…but…no…just no…--;;; He always seemed more like a fatherly, loving person then anything else. I just love how wise and kind he is to everyone, and I always imagined he was very protective over Bumblebee, what with him being the smallest and the youngest and most bad-lucked one of the group. So it just made sense to me that when Bee was tiny, fleshy, and squishy, he'd become even more protective of his little Spy. Hehehe. To which Bee would be all giddy, if he weren't all upset and confused and terrified despite himself, 'cause he's like…Optimus' secret groupie, that adorable little sweetie that he is. XD hugs the Bee!!!

Also, a note on Ironhide's accent: he's a hillbilly…seriously…they may not have given him the accent in the movie, but he's always been a redneck to me. Soooo…yeah, he's got that old classic G1 accent in my fic. Haha Gotta love gun-toting redneck robots in disguise. XDDD

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Mikaela stopped her vespa, pushing it up over the crest of a tall hill beside the road as she followed the familiar, loud, happy sounding purr of Bumblebee's engine. She could hear Sam's voice saying something in that high, excited chirp that in teenaged males usually meant something exciting, illegal, dangerous, or just plain stupid was about to happen, and Bee's voice gave a faintly robotic giggle in response, loud and unmistakable. Mikaela furrowed her brow in automatic curiosity and no small amount of concern, and hurried over the hill.

As she crested the top, she found herself facing a tall, old hill of paving gravel, long since forgotten by the state highway department when they had finished redoing the small road years earlier. Sam was standing to the side of it, looking like an insect next to Bumblebee, who was busy…constructing…well, what looked like some sort of ramp that faced the artificial sand dune. Most of it looked pre-constructed, a gigantic metal frame standing as tall as the 17 foot BB himself, as if they had made it somewhere else and then found a way to cart it here.

"What are you doing…?" She asked, almost afraid to hear the answer, and both the boy and the robot looked up at her, Sam grinning in greeting and BB's eyes smiling where his metallic mouth couldn't.

"Greetings Mikaela!"

"Bumblebee's going to jump the ramp and land in the sand hill! We found it a couple of weeks ago, and decided since no one needed it, we'd have fun with it instead!"

Mikaela stared from Sam to BB, blinking gently as if she hadn't understood them, both of them grinning at her expectantly.

"You're going to…I'm sorry, **what???**"

"I'm going to start far enough from the ramp to reach my full speed, using it's angle to launch myself into the air, transform, and allow myself to go into a freefall that will be cushioned by the gravel" Bee explained matter of factly, as if it were actually believable to her ears.

Mikaela simply nodded slowly, her brain running through the possible catastrophes that could be caused by this rather troubling idea she was sure had originally started out as **Sam's**.

"Why are you doing this? Are you sure you won't…**break** something? Does Optimus know? Maybe you should call Ratchet here first…" Sam shook his head at her obvious concern, pointing at the dune behind him.

"He'll be fine. He knows what he's doing. You should have heard him calculating the entire thing!" Mikaela couldn't help but feel a sort of dread settle in the pit of her stomach for Bumblebee, despite Sam's attempt at reassurance, Bee's eager, animated nod, and the happy way he hummed to himself, the radio playing quietly from somewhere in his large body, his voice capacitor purring along with it as he went back to putting the final pieces of the ramp together. It didn't help that most of the construction seemed to be made from scrap metal taken from God only knew where.

Perhaps to an outsider, her concern for the large robotic "man" would seem strange, they might not be able to see past the metal exterior of his body. But to Mikaela and Sam, as well as anyone else who took the time to spend with Bumblebee, he was, just as much as a human being, a kind and friendly creature, quick to befriend those who didn't pose a threat to him, his robotic Autobot comrades, or the humans he'd already befriended.

Mikaela saw him as a true friend, closer then the girls she talked to at the High School, simply much, much larger, and loaded to the gills with plasma cannons. It was only natural for her to worry for the safety of a friend when she found the planning to do something…well…**crazy…**

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Throughout the talk, throughout the night, Optimus sat quietly on the ground, his legs folded in front of him, on arm rested gently on his knee, the other palm-up on the other leg with Bumblebee's tiny, human form resting within as Optimus' fingers curled gently around him, relaxed and creating a support for the Autobot leader's small, young friend to lean against.

To Sam and Mikaela, it was reminiscent of a great, metal Buddha such as was seen in the orient, sitting serenely, protective and fatherly towards the fragile human it lorded over. It never ceased to amaze Sam how gentle and delicate those large, mechanical hands were. They had the power to crush anything that they touched, were scarred, dented, and weathered by eons of battle. And yet that hand that cradled the tiny Bumblebee was so relaxed and so tender, barely moving and ever mindful of the comparatively frail figure reclining in the palm.

Bee himself seemed greatly comforted in the hand of his patient leader, much of the unease and confusion over the body he now possessed diminished as he sat with his arms draped over the large thumb curling relaxed in front of front of him. It was, for Sam and Mikaela, a strangely endearing, heartening thing for them to see. They had known the Autobots for such a short time, still knew so little of their enormous benefactors, and yet the more they saw of them, the more fascinating and wonderful they seemed.

As the hours passed, though, the tiny form held in that massive hand began to tire. Though he fought it, Bee's human body was incapable of the long periods of sleeplessness that he found effortless in his true form. Even as he made a valiant effort to stay in the conversation, to give his knowledge as it was needed, his eyes soon won the battle with him to close. He began to shift restlessly, partly to find a position that would help him stay awake and partly to find a position that was more comfortable, more relaxing, his own body's way of making his fight against sleep even harder.

Each time he did, Optimus would glance down, a gentle, deeply paternal smile on his metallic features, allowing his fingers to spread gently to give his friend a chance to find a more comfortable position, and then would relax them again, the large digits curling once more to create an almost cocoon-like cradle around his comrade.

It wasn't long before Bumblebee's small head began to droop, jerking up ever so gently each time he caught himself dozing off. The large Autobots had long since let their voices drop lower as Ratchet and Ironhide noticed the small not-human human growing tired, hoping not to disturb him even as he tried to fight off sleep, gently amused smiles on each of their faces. Perhaps it would have been simply easier had Optimus told Bumblebee to sleep, but the other Autobots knew Bee well enough to know he would have only denied his fatigue, intent on forcing himself to stay awake to prove to himself as much as to them that he could do it. The youngest, and now-smallest Autobot, he had always striven to prove that he was a strong, capable member of the team. He wouldn't admit to being tired because in doing so, they knew he would view it as admitting to a fault or weakness.

So they let him stay, dozing off despite himself, until it seemed that his fatigue had whittled away at even Bumblebee's firm resolve, and he leaned his forehead down, resting it on the large thumb curled in front of his chest, giving a deep sigh as he dozed off almost immediately. The voices of the others trailed off as they watched him, as if amused by the entire display and waiting for what he would do next. Finally, when he hadn't moved for a few minutes, seemingly giving into the internal decision of "Just a quick nap, then I'll be ok…" Optimus glanced up at the others, a gentle smirk on his face.

"Perhaps it would be better if we adjourned and continued this conversation tomorrow. I believe our espionage expert has reached his limit. He would be most displeased with himself in the morning if he awoke to realize he had slept through the latter part of the meeting." Sam and Mikaela laughed softly at the humored tone in the gigantic bot's voice, their own chuckles mirrored in the amused tones of the other bots as they both rose to their enormous feet.

"Yes, I believe you're right. Besides, I have found it is detrimental to human physiological and mental health to refrain from sleeping in a properly reclining position for the required number of hours. As he is now, he will cause himself stiffness of the muscles and joints to sleep that way for too long." Optimus chuckled at Ratchet, glancing back down at the unconscious spy. He gently opened his hand, shifting his fingers enough that Bumblebee jolted awake suddenly when the thumb he was using for a pillow moved away. He looked around drowsily for a long moment as if unsure where he was, but then finally glanced up at Optimus, running a hand through his short hair.

"What's up, Optimus?" He drawled in his decidedly English accent.

"We have decided to adjourn for the evening. It is past the hour of Sam and Mikaela's intended stasis, and you seem to be in need of your own sleep cycle." Bumblebee started gently, sitting up a little straighter.

"Me, Sir? No, I'm fine. I was simply resting for a moment."

Sam smirked softly, walking closer to Optimus' leg and peering up at Bee from the ground.

"Come on, Bumblebee, you could use the sleep. You've had a lot of stress the past few days. How long has it been since you slept last?"

Bumblebee hummed and hawed for a moment, his sleep-confused brain obviously slow to calculate the length of time as his brow furrowed deeply in concentration. "I…it was…I think…"

"Three days. Or close to it. I have been watching, hoping that you would get the rest you needed without being given an order to do so. Bumblebee, you were barely able to go so long without recharging before you were transformed in Starscream's attack. You don't have to push yourself **that** hard." Despite the soft tone in Optimus' voice as he interrupted him, Bumblebee seemed embarrassed, a definite blush to his face as he averted his eyes. Apparently he hadn't anticipated it being quite so noticeable.

He nodded softly, finally giving in to their suggestions and swinging his legs over the edge of Optimus' hand, letting them dangle as he waited to be set down. "I…understand…" He almost seemed to want to say something more, perhaps an explanation on his actions or an apology, but he held his tongue, falling back on a soldier's habit of refusing to make excuses for his actions. "I'll get some rest, Optimus, Sir."

Instead of setting him down where he was, Optimus stood, careful to balance the tiny passenger in his hand to avoid tumbling him out onto the ground from a high distance, taking the few steps to the makeshift "campground" Sam had set up shortly after the attack by the highway. He knelt as he let Bee down, putting himself face-to-gigantic face with his Spy as he spoke.

"I do not mean to criticize your actions in this matter, Bumblebee. I simply do not wish to see you do yourself undue harm." His voice dropped as he spoke to him, to a volume that only the human would hear, a surprising thing to hear, had Sam and Mikaela seen far more fascinating things then their ability to control their voices to such a level. "You do not have to push yourself to prove your abilities after what happened. I have no doubt that you are still a fine soldier, even in this form. You would simply cause yourself harm in showing me the same determination and loyalty I've always received from you."

For a moment, Bumblebee simply stared at him, his eyes wide, as if he hadn't expected Optimus to say what he had. He didn't know if it was the fact that he had seemed to know his intentions so easily in what he did and, in saying it, soothing the worries he'd had plaguing him since Starscream had assaulted him, or the fact that Optimus had said it in the soothing, comforting tone when he did that shocked him. Nevertheless, even in his sleep-deprived state, he seemed to feel a weight lift off of his shoulders, and he visibly wilted, relaxing now that he knew it was pointless to try and keep the facade of an unfaltering soldier, that he'd obviously been so transparent in doing so. He smiled softly at his leader, nodding softly and sighing as he lifted the flap of the tent behind him, glancing at the ground thoughtfully between them. "Thank you, sir…" Was the only thing he said as he turned back, stepping into the tent, and as soft as it was whispered, Optimus Prime had no problem hearing it from where he was.

Things back in the clearing were quiet for a long moment as the exchange transpired, and even as Prime walked back to the group, careful to avoid stepping on Mikaela and Sam, and Bumblebee could be heard clambering and fumbling as much as he could to get into the sleeping bag before he dozed off in the middle of the process.

"I swear, the youngling's gonna cause himself some **real** harm one of these days. Sometimes he pushes himself too hard." Ironhide grumbled after everything seemed to have gotten quiet again, his voice still low. His arms crossed temperamentally in front of him, and he glared off into the space above the tiny human tent, but it was obvious that he was truthfully worried for the young Spy. Bumblebee had always been the sort of "little brother" to the others, and not even Ironhide could avoid feeling worried about him, old and cantankerous as he was, now that he'd been "transformed" into what he was now.

"He simply wants to prove himself. He's a fine, loyal soldier. He wants to prove that to us now that he's been changed. We all know his way." Optimus soothed calmly, and there was a distinct note of pride in his voice.

"Still don't like it…he should know better, ambitious or not. If he gets himself hurt because he's so stubborn, I'm going to fry his circuits when he's back to normal." They all knew the threats were hollow, a way for Ironhide to hide his worries behind his gruff, surly nature, and they all chose to ignore the worries they all had about actually being able to reverse Bumblebee's current…"condition."

The silence lingered between them for a long while, each of them, Autobot and human, lost in their own thoughts, until finally Ratchet sighed, shaking his head. "I suppose I should recharge myself. It will give me a chance to rest my processors from this dilemma. Perhaps a fresh start tomorrow will help me look at what has been done more clearly and find a cure." It was obviously taking it's toll on him, the worry about his comrade, and the fear that if he didn't find a way to reverse what had been done they could very well be in very big trouble should Starscream decide to use the same form of attack on the other three Autobots. He strode off, disappearing through the trees to find a place where he would be mostly concealed from any air attacks by the thick trees.

Ironhide grumbled something that could only be considered a good evening wish towards the others as he walked off in his own direction. He wouldn't be getting much sleep that night: he'd opted to be sentry that night and knew he had a long night ahead of him. Optimus was left to look down at the two humans as they waved the weapons specialist off, and he kneeled down closer to them, curiosity and concern on his mechanical features.

"Are you not fatigued yourselves? Would you like me to take you home?" Mikaela and Sam shook their heads, chuckling softly in reply.

"I'm not that tired. I haven't kept myself awake for 3 days, though." Sam laughed out, nodding back at the tent where Bee was resting, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "I can't go home, though. If my dad finds out I came home without my "Camaro," he'll shit bricks. I just planned on spending the night in the other tent compartment. My folks think I've gone on a normal camping trip with Miles' family. 'Kaela might need to go home, though."

"Yeah, actually. One more night away from home and my mom might start getting ideas. She'll start making Sam look for wedding rings or something, I swear!" She laughed, though the joke turned her boyfriend's face an intense shade of red, and he scratched the back of his neck, averting his eyes. Optimus gave a softly rumbling, light-hearted chuckle in response, and nodded.

"Alright, then. Climb in. I'll drive you back." He stood back up long enough to make the transformation from his bipedal robot form to that of the signature red and blue flame-painted Peterbilt, the passenger side door swinging open for her to climb in. Sam offered to ride with her on the way back to her house to see her on her way, and they curled up in Optimus' cab, curling up against each other as the door shut and the safety belts wrapped around them of their own accord.

For a long while, as they drove the few miles to Mikaela's house, everything was quiet. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, simply a thoughtful one as they all thought things over in their heads, from worry about their friend to fears of when the Decepticons would attempt another attack, to things as mundane as when they would have to study for the next Geometry test. Finally, curiosity overtook Mikaela, and she spoke up from where she sat, leaning with her back against Sam's chest as he held her tightly in his arms.

"You're protective of him, aren't you, Optimus?" The sound of a questioning grunt came from the radio's speakers, a curious, conversational tone to the Autobot's disembodied voice. "Bumblebee. You seem to be really protective of him."

There was silence in the cab for a moment as the alien seemed to think the question over, the throb of the engine slowing gently in a thoughtful hesitation they had come to recognize. Finally: "He has always been a fine soldier since the war started. But he is young, one of the youngest amongst the surviving members of our race, and smaller then most. He has always seemed to…look up to the rest of us, Ironhide and Ratchet and I, and the other comrades we left behind and lost. He is always trying to prove his abilities to us, sometimes in ways that are, in retrospect, not always the wisest or safest…" there was a touch of hesitation as he spoke, as if he were recalling something from the past that he was debating on how to address in his response. "I will say, though…that…after the battle of Tyger Pax, when he was…tortured and beaten by Megatron and his forces, when he lost his voice, I have felt…protective of him, yes. He went into the battle knowing that it could have been a suicide mission. I sent him, and the squad he commanded, to distract Megatron's forces long enough to give us a chance to send the Allspark into space. He fought bravely, he willingly acted in a way that, had we not found him in time, would have meant his death, and all to give us a chance to complete our mission."

The silence that lingered in the cab as he paused held a distinctly melancholic air to it, the weight of what Optimus was saying evident even in the mood that was settling over the three.

"I have always tried hated losing my allies, I dislike seeing friends and companions die. It is, I suppose, a strange quality for a Commander to have. Bumblebee had never been anything but loyal and brave, and eager to fight for the cause. It pained me to send him and his squad to a battle I knew they may never return from. He was only one of two to survive that battle. Even when I saw him alive for the first time, afterwards, I could find very little solace in his state. He would not be able to speak again for millions of years, and I will admit that a part of me blamed myself, and still does. It was a shame, to me, to see a bot as young and brave as he is damaged so badly at my command."

"Is that what Ironhide meant when he called him a "youngling?" Is that what Autobots call their younger members?"

"It is. Of course, Bumblebee is no longer a youngling. The closest translation into your language for the word would be "child." He is perhaps around your age, in human years, no longer a child, and yet not an elder, either. He is young enough for Ironhide, Ratchet, and I to be old enough to be his elders, and thus we have always felt a little protective of him, as you said. He is brave, though. I could not ask for a finer, more loyal soldier. Even if he **does** tend to find his way into some rather nerve wrecking situations." The sound of the older Autobot's laughter echoed softly through the cabin. It broke a little of the tension that had settled over the cabin as he spoke, and the two humans laughed with him just as softly, though they at times found themselves plagued by memories of one or two particular situations that had involved their Bumblebee, in which he almost hadn't made it out, and they had been there to witness it.

"It's nice to see you four, when you're not in a battle. You all seem so close. Like a family, I suppose. Like you're…well…you just remind me of my dad a bit." Sam mumbled softly, unsure if it was an appropriate thing to say, or how Autobot culture would view a statement such as that, as strange as it was to worry about something as simple as that.

"Hmm…I…suppose there are times when I **do** feel a bit like what humans would think of as a "father" towards Bumblebee. Though I'm certainly not old enough to be Ironhide's "father." He's older then even Ratchet and I!" The three laughed again, as Optimus pulled down a small street, darkly lit and quiet, and stopped outside a small house. "Here we are. Good Evening, Mikaela."

The door opened gently, allowing Mikaela to slip out, turning back to share a soft, lingering kiss with Sam before pulling away and smiling down up at him. "Thanks, Optimus. Love you, Sam, Night, guys. I'll see you tomorrow, ok?" She patted the indigo blue painted side as she stepped down, waving at the two as she walked into her house, casting one final glance back at Sam and the intimidating large Semi before she locked the front door behind her and went to bed.

The ride back to the temporary Autobot camp was quiet, a soft smile on Sam's face as he enjoyed the lingering sensation of Mikaela's lips on his, and he sighed gently, leaning his head back and closing his eyes in thought. Before they had even returned, he was sound asleep within the cab. Instead of awakening him to send him to bed, Optimus simply parked beside the small human tent, his engine slowing and finally stopping as he settled into his own stasis, guarding over one human companion as he slept, and protecting the other inside his cab even as he slept.


	2. Chapter 2

Woot, the second part of my little crackfic:3 Or at least the little teaser fics. Hahaha Hey, maybe if I write enough crackfic parts, I'll be able to put them together into a full story! XD mah bad. I intended to put all this in the first part, but it was 10 am, I hadn't had any sleep, and I decided I'd just write more or finish it tonight. Hahaha :3 Anyway. Yeah. Like I said, in no particular order again, 'cause I still only have a rough idea about how it's going to go.

There was no need to call for Ratchet as Optimus careened to a stop in the clearing they'd long since taken to using as their meeting place, Sam and Mikaela crying out in surprise as the abrupt stop almost threw them on top of the moaning form laying prone on the cot in the sleeper compartment of Optimus' cab. Ratchet had already been alerted by Bumblebee's alarms as Starscream had attacked before his communications were shut off, and Optimus had, upon finding the humans and the unconscious human who accompanied them, had redirected Ratchet to meet in the usual place. He had arrived only a few minutes before them.

Even before Optimus had rolled to a complete stop, the door to the sleeper compartment had swung open, and the two confused, terrified humans knew it was their signal to climb out, carrying their unconscious ward with them so that the Autobot leader could transform. It wasn't a shock for them to come face to face with Ratchet as they climbed out, the injured man – still wrapped in Mikaela's shawl, for their modesty more then his own – carried between the two of them as carefully as they could manage.

"What is the situation? Optimus, what has happened? Where is Bumblebee? I expected him to bring the children!" Bumblebee's short, scrambled cries for backup had concerned the old medic deeply – as had Optimus' subsequent orders to rendezvous elsewhere, and to find one of their number seemingly missing was not something he enjoyed. Optimus took little time in transforming, kneeling down and putting his open hand next to the two teenagers without answering the medic.

They took the signal and carefully lay the battered blonde in his hand, eyes terrified and large as they watched him stand back up, cupping both hands under the unconscious human for support and holding him out to Ratchet as if in answer.

"They have informed me that until an attack by Starscream, this wounded human **was** Bumblebee." He rumbled, his disbelief at the possibility evident despite the matter of fact way he had said it. Ratchet looked from the human he held for him to examine to his commander's suspicious gaze, confusion etched on his mechanical face.

"What? That's impossible…"

"I said the same myself." Sam couldn't help but feel the panic rise to an all new level as the thought crossed his mind that Optimus might think they were lying. Mikaela herself simply gripped firmly to the sleeve of Sam's shirt as she stared up at the gigantic mechanoid aliens, a strange expression etched on her features.

"Optimus, you have to **believe** us! I swear, we're not lying! Bumblebee was hit by a…some sort of…I don't know! Starscream shot him with something! It was huge, like…a missile! When the dust cleared, Bumblebee was gone, but…**he** was there! Right where Bumblebee landed! He said something about escaping to **you**, and then he went unconscious! Look, he even has your symbol, under his hair!" Sam didn't know who he seemed to be pleading with more, the leader of the Autobots or Ratchet himself.

Optimus glanced down at Sam as his medic blinked in obvious surprise, looking back down at the human in Prime's hands, taking note of the flash of disheveled red hair mixed in with all the blonde on the man's forehead, lifting the patch and scanning the strange discoloration of the skin beneath.

"I do not distrust **you** Sam. It has to be a trick, that is all. In all the years of fighting, the Decepticons have never been able to create a weapon with the capabilities you describe. Nevertheless, I doubt this human would willingly agree to be used as a Decepticon pawn. He must have been – " 

"Optimus, the boy is right. This human has a strange discoloration of the skin in the shape of our emblem! Look, there." Ratchet's voice cut off the leader shortly, and it was obvious by the surprised jerk of his leader's head that it wasn't something he'd expected to hear coming from the elderly medic. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the partially-concealed patch as well, and after a moment he simply shook his head, glancing up at Ratchet.

"I do not know what game Starscream is playing at. Perhaps when the human is conscious he will be able to tell us more. He is injured, though. We must see to his wounds before we can be sure he is well enough to tell us anything. What can you do?" There was a cautious tone in Prime's voice as he spoke, and Ratchet nodded, continuing to scan the unconscious, though obviously pained human, even as it's moans of pain seemed at times to grow louder and louder.

"It does not appear to have any **life threatening** injuries. The shortness of breath appears to be caused by the pain of fractured ribs and clavicle, and there are numerous contusions and abrasions, but I do not detect any internal hemorrhaging or ruptures. The human's jaw also appears to be dislocated out of place. I do not have delicate enough instruments to correct the dislocation: I am only equipped to repair Autobot injuries, and I would be afraid of injuring it further was I to try."

"What would need to be done to correct the issue? Will it be required to transport the human to a hospital for first aid? It would risk being unable to question the human afterwards, but if we had to, I would allow it to be taken to a human Emergency ro – "

"No, no, it is not severe enough at this moment to require that, and I agree: to transport the human to a medical facility, we may lose the ability to question it after it has awoken. Give it to me." He had obviously already been researching the first aid techniques and needs for a human who had sustained such an injury as Optimus had been speaking, and Optimus nodded, carefully depositing the limp form in Ratchet's hands, eliciting a feeble cry of pain.. "All I need is to reposition the jaw in it's correct alignment. However, as my hands are far too large for that, I will need assistance in the process."

The way he looked down at Sam and Mikaela as he said it made the blood instantly drain from the boy's face. The sounds of distress being made by the unconscious form, whom he still believed was Bumblebee, as ludicrous as it sounded, were already enough to make him feel nauseous. The thought of popping a dislocated jaw into place and causing even more pain made him freeze, as he sometimes did in the worst of situations, despite himself.

"Ratchet, I can't…I don't know the first thing about…what if I hurt him **more???**"

"Nonsense, I will instruct you, Sam, I simply cannot do it with my own hands. It is a simple procedure."

Sam simply shook his head, staring blankly up at Ratchet, his feeling of nausea only growing. Mikaela, though, seemed to come out of her quiet, bewildered shock as he hesitated, stepping out from behind him. "I'll do it Ratchet. Let me see him."

The large bot kneeled down to her, holding his hands out to her a few inches above the ground, and she stepped closer, her eyes gazing timidly at the battered man he held. She felt confident enough that she could what he instructed her to do – she'd learned a little about first aid in her health classes at school – but that still didn't mean she felt comfortable hurting the already seriously hurting man. Nevertheless, she nodded, reaching a hand out to rest it on the blonde's arm as if to calm his agonized moans and gasps for breath. "Ok, what do I do?"

"Alright. Simply hold his jaw in both of your hands, with your thumbs behind the back teeth, and push it down firmly until you feel it pop back into place."

She swallowed what little fear she could as she sensed Sam shuffling up nervously behind her, staring over her shoulder, and reached out with gently trembling hands. Even her gentle touch brought a soft cry from the injured man, his brow furrowing as he jerked as if to get away from her despite being unconscious, and she jerked her hands away, glancing back at Sam. "Sam, hold his head for me! He's going to hurt himself more!"

Her boyfriend stared at her in a somewhat shell shocked expression before nodding weakly, moving to the side of her and reaching out, biting his lip as he held the man's head, doing his best to avoid the painful jaw and hold him still at the same time. The man's eyes fluttered softly as he was restrained, pale blue irises flashing from between the barely-opened lids, but he didn't come to full consciousness, and Mikaela nodded to herself, taking a breath and reaching out once more, gripping his jaw the way she'd been told.

He tried to struggle softly once more, but Sam's grip tightened despite himself, and perhaps out of fear herself, Mikaela acted quickly, pushing on the man's jaw, ignoring as the pain it caused sent him into more and more violent reactions, his voice rising in volume and his body jerking sharply until she felt a firm, but rather sickening "pop," the jaw setting back into place.

Unfortunately, the pain was enough to bring the man to full consciousness, and shocked, terrified blue eyes shot open, the expression changing in an instant to one of rage as he screamed, lunging violently enough to throw them off. He instantly leapt for the first thing his eyes landed on, and Mikaela gave a startled shriek as she found herself tackled to the ground, a hand squeezing roughly against her windpipe as the man pinned her to the ground with a surge of adrenalin, his fight instinct taking over. She fought to breathe as she clawed at his arm, staring wide-eyed as he lifted an arm as if to punch her, only to shriek and fall back, clutching at his ribs in agony as the fractured bones sent sharp pains through his body with the movement of his arm at such an extreme angle.

The action lasted only for an instant, and when the blonde's eyes finally opened from the agonized grimace, he stared at the arm he'd been intending to strike her with as if fascinated, soft moans escaping his lips at each struggling breath. His movements seemed confused, bewildered, as he flexed his arm, gasping in pain as the muscles flexing around the broken ribs tore at him painfully. He didn't seem to notice those around him, or even Mikaela still pinned underneath him for that matter, until Sam stepped closer timidly, eyeing him with a mixture of fear and curiosity on his face.

"…Bee…?" The blonde looked up sharply, and the fear in his expression was evident even to the large Autobots who had stepped closer when he'd attacked, stopping themselves from tearing him away from Mikaela only because of the abrupt change in his demeanor, the obvious way his own bruised and injured body had seemed to snap him out of the instinctual way he'd leapt to attack.

"Sa-AH!" The human cried out sharply as he tried to speak, his hand going to the recently reset jaw, and he curled up against himself, pained whimpers escaping his closed lips as his eyes skewed shut against the sharp, shooting agony he felt when he tried to talk. Beneath him, Mikaela didn't seem to know what to do, pinned as she was while he sat on her stomach, the shawl they'd used to cover his nakedness long since thrown off in the struggle. She eyed him cautiously, not moving, though her eyes glanced up at the others standing above them questioningly.

The loud, ground-shaking thump of a large mechanical foot barely seemed to register with the pained young man, and it wasn't until Optimus was kneeling beside the three tiny Earthlings that he looked up, seeing the Autobot for the first time since he'd awoken. The expression on his face was a strange mixture of shock and fear and relief, and he sat up straighter, staring up at Prime even as he was looked back upon, his confused expression met with a stern, suspicious, but non-confrontational gaze.

"These children claim to know you. They say that **I** know you. Do you know who I am?" for a moment, the only response he received was a trembling whine as the human began to tremble, and even the gigantic leader of the Autobots could see the tears creating tracks in the grime covering the man's face. But finally he nodded, distress and confusion in the way he gazed at Optimus.

"I suspect you will experience discomfort when attempting to communicate with us, but we need to ask you a few questions. It is important for us to know what transpired approximately a half an hour ago. Do you feel like you can communicate in your present state?" Again a pause, the human's eyes darting back and forth as if floundering for understanding of his situation, and then despite the pain he must have felt in doing so, he gave a sharp, strangled laugh through clenched teeth, groaning and cringing at the discomfort before looking back up at Optimus. When he spoke, he did so through a tightly clenched jaw, one hand pressed firmly against it as if doing so relieved some of the pain, his words mumbled as a result, but for the most part understandable.

"I…can't…I don't…see…a radio…but…at least I – oooh…I still have my **voice**…Sir…" for a moment, the humor in the situation seemed to escape the others around him, but then a sort of disbelief crossed even Optimus Prime's features, and he stood up, silent for a long moment. When he spoke again, the question was short, to the point, as if simply to confirm what had already been implied in the man's response.

"What is your name?" The human tried to laugh again, but the sound couldn't hide the sob that accompanied it, his demeanor beginning to slip farther and farther into distress.

"B - …Bumblebee…Sir…It's…I'm…**me**…! Optimus, Sir…**please**…what's…what happened…to me???" Ratchet made a short sound, almost like a human scoff or gasp, and he looked at Optimus, shaking his head.

"This can't be right, Optimus! This **has** to be a Decepticon trick!" The only response Prime gave, though, was to the humans what sounded like a series of electronic shrieks, clicks, and buzzes, and though it wasn't anything a human would have been able to understand, it was obvious that it had been directed at the human "Bumblebee."

He shook his head in response, confusion etching his features. "I…can't…I don't understand you…too…high…and too low…I can't understand what you said!" though mumbled through clenched teeth, his voice was beginning to take on a distinctly panicked tone, his trembling only increasing as his anxiety level rose.

Optimus processed what he'd said for a moment and then the sound came again, more complex, and it became obvious to human ears that things that had been too high or too low on the range of sound had been adjusted to match the range of human hearing. It drew a soft cry of relief from the man, and he nodded sharply, an attempt at a smile crossing his pained features.

"I understand you, yes, of course I know our language! Yes, I am Bumblebee, I am loyal to **you**, Sir! I don't know what happened to me! Everything is…everything is changed, I can't…I don't know what's going on!" Ratchet's attention was instantly drawn to the human on the ground, shock written on his features, and though Sam and Mikaela were unable to translate what must have been Cybertronian speech, it was obvious to them that the human Bumblebee could, and had, and had answered what had been said to him by their leader.

Not even Optimus was able to hide the shock caused by what this meant. No humans were capable of understanding their language, and the fact that this one was could only mean that he was, as unbelievable as it sounded to each of them, telling the truth about who he was.

Optimus knelt down once more, holding a large hand out to the now much-smaller Bee, who – after staring at it for a moment – realized his intentions and rose, staggering over and dragging himself into the hand, pulling his knees up to his chest gently as his leader stood back up, taking him with him. Mikaela pulled herself off the ground, glancing at Sam before they both turned their concerned eyes back up at the human in Optimus' hand.

"Do not allow yourself to be alarmed, Bumblebee. Stay calm, and tell me: Do you remember what happened before you sustained these injuries?" His voice no longer holding the suspicion it had before, he spoke to the Spy in a soothing voice, recognizing that he was succumbing to stress and fear, an understandable reaction in light of his situation. Bee nodded softly, as though not entirely sure he truthfully did or not, but attempted to speak of what he did nonetheless.

"Sam, Mikaela, and I…we were out by…the highway. Jumping a sand dune. Playing. I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have been lax in my duties. Perhaps if I'd done my job I would have –"

Optimus cut him off, shaking his head as he heard Bumblebee's tone rising to a frantic, upset sound, finding a way to blame his current state on himself. "That does not matter now, Bumblebee. What happened at the sand dune? How did **this** happen to you?"

Bumblebee shook his head, one hand pressing against his forehead as if it hurt to think, as if he were having problems remembering what had happened. He sighed as he glanced back up at the concerned features of his leader, his jaw still tightly clenched together to avoid too much pain.

"I…Sam alerted us to the approach of a human flying vehicle…I looked up, and…I saw…I knew it was Starscream…He was transforming in mid-flight…I tried to…hide the children, to keep them safe…and…then I tried to communicate with you, to call for backup…but…he dropped something…**threw** something at me…I…tried to shoot it down, but…I missed…and…the -…the last thing I remember is being hit…and…feeling pain…all over my body…I couldn't **move**, Sir…It hurt so badly, I couldn't move! And…and then I…can't remember anything after that…" He seemed to wilt, as if his explanation didn't seem adequate enough for him, as if he were ashamed of his inability to recall what had truly happened. Optimus, though, simply shook his head soothingly, both hands cupping gently together against Bumblebee's back to create a sort of protective pocket around the unhappy human, looking down at the children.

"Sam, Mikaela, did you see what happened after the attack?"

"Not much. Everything was dusty, whatever they hit him with blew a hold in the ground, it was hard to see. When it cleared, Starscream was gone and we found him…we found Bumblebee in the middle of the crater."

"And you said that the object in the crater when I found you was the weapon Starscream had used? It is imperative that we retrieve that object, etermine what it is and what it did!"

"Yeah, that's right, it was in the middle of the crater near Bee! Everything went by so fast, but I remember that!" Optimus nodded at Sam then, glancing at Ratchet and holding his hands out for him to take the human Bumblebee from his grasp.

"Ratchet, I'm going to investigate and see if the weapon is still there. Keep Bumblebee and the children safe until Ironhide arrives, and then you rendezvous with me at the coordinates Bumblebee sent before his communications were interrupted."

"But Optimus, what if the weapon does the same thing to you? We need to be careful, we don't know what it is or how it works!" Despite his words, he took Bumblebee in his own hands, cradling him close to his chest unconsciously.

"That's a risk I have to take. We need to know what it is they've done to him, and if they intend to do it again! If anything happens, I want you to contact me immediately! Ironhide and Captain Lennox will be here shortly, until then, stay under the cover of the trees: If they can't see you, the Decepticons won't be able to attack you like they did Bumblebee, if that's truly their intentions." Before he was even finished saying it, he'd transformed into the familiar red and blue Peterbilt, and without waiting for an answer, he tore off through the forest, making his way towards the location of Bumblebee's last electronic communication.

Ratchet looked down at the trembling, cowering Bumblebee in his hands for a long moment, scanning and processing the information regarding his health for a long moment. Finally, he glanced down at Sam and Mikaela, kneeling down closer to the ground. "I'm going to transform. You three climb inside. If there is trouble before Ironhide arrives, we'll need to make a quick getaway." He placed Bumblebee gently down on the ground, Sam and Mikaela each grabbing an arm and helping him to his feet, supporting his uneasy weight between them as carefully as possible to avoid causing him too much discomfort to his broken ribs. In an instant, Ratchet had transformed, and the rear doors to the Hummer 2 Search-and-Rescue vehicle had popped open invitingly. They climbed in, helping Bee inside, and shut the doors behind him as they led him to lay down on one of the stretchers inside, covering him with the thin, almost useless sheets covering the medical stretcher.


	3. Chapter 3

Paaaaart 3! XD I'm still typing these up individually in this way because the faster I get the main ones out of my brain, the faster I can get to putting them all together into one large format. Soooo that basically means this is a place to hold all of them while I organize my thoughts. Hehe :3 I promise, I know now what order they go in. The only one that's OUT of order is the sleepy Bee one, and that one is supposed to come after this one and the last one. Everything else from here on in will be in order.

And yes, I've been told that I have to start writing this officially now instead of in simple teaser format, so I will. I'm hoping that if I type up a chapter or so a day, I should be able to finish by the beginning of school, which will make it virtually impossible to write anymore of it…probably forever? xX heh

And for the record, this was the hardest chapter to focus on yet. Sambee was boiling around in my head all night, and I could hardly think of anything else! . Waugh!!!

11001000110

Optimus glanced down at the obviously uncomfortable Bumblebee at his feet, who even now seemed to be in a varying state of distress, still shivering and still holding the same slightly terrified expression. He hadn't said anything to let on that he was feeling so out of sorts, but it didn't take the Autobots' heightened scanning systems to tell that he was in a bad state. Not that Optimus blamed him. He sighed to himself, glancing up at Ratchet and Ironhide as they stood not far away, discussing the best course of events amongst themselves, Ironhide taking the more violent approach while Ratchet studied the bizarre weapon, opting for the more scientific route.

"All I'm sayin' is, I'd feel a whole hellova lot better if we just went out, found Starscream, tore him a new one, and **ordered** him to undo it! He couldn't have gotten **too** many buddies since we saw him last, could he???"

"Even if I do share your sentiments towards that poor excuse for a life form, it would be unwise of us to attempt a blind attack at this point. We don't know if they have many more of these weapons, and were we to find ourselves in Bumblebee's situation, it would be no trouble for them to be rid of us for **good**. Simply give me some time, Ironhide, I'll figure this out…" Ironhide scoffed audibly in response, but when he spoke again, his vocal capacitor had dropped below the human range of hearing, though it was no trouble for the other two Autobots to hear him easily enough.

"I don't know if you'd noticed, Ratchet, but humans don't live that long! It may take **years** to figure that thing out! It wouldn't have been a problem before, but I don't think Bumblebee will be able to handle you taking **too** long "figuring it out!" I doubt he'd want to in the first place!"

Optimus sighed to himself, looking away from the arguing Autobots, understanding the elder's reasons for anxiety, but agreeing to himself with Ratchet's ideas against attacking first and asking questions later. Nevertheless, he knew it couldn't possibly be easy for Bumblebee to accept. He looked back down at him, watching the way Sam and Mikaela tried to comfort him, unable to ignore his frightened, unhappy state. Optimus had never seen so much fear and confusion in the little bot, even after he'd come back to consciousness following the battle of Tyger Pax. And yet he wasn't speaking of it, was keeping his thoughts inside his head while trying for the most part to put up a brave front towards the others.

"Bumblebee." The tiny figure looked up at his leader questioningly, looking comical by human standards with the cloth wrapped tightly under his jaw to hold it in place while it healed.

"Yes, Sir?" Optimus knelt down to the ground, holding his hand out low to the blonde not-human, who looked at it for a moment curiously before back up at Prime.

"Let's talk. Sam, Mikaela, if you'll excuse us." He nodded down towards the other two, and Bumblebee glanced back at them to be sure they didn't mind being left by themselves for a while. Sam simply nodded.

"Yeah, sure, no problem. Go on, Bee." The blonde nodded, smiling weakly as he climbed into Optimus' hand, looking a little startled and clinging to his fingers tightly as he was lifted higher, unsure what to think about his first time being conscious while he was being carried by one of the other Autobots.

Optimus walked slowly away from the clearing, allowing Bumblebee a chance to get used to being carried while he took them far enough from the rest of the group, where he felt Bee would feel more comfortable talking. He was distinctly aware of the trembling in the body of his tiny friend, and his concern only grew, his eyes glancing down at him, watching him for a moment as he perched in his palm. He'd noticed that Bumblebee had never settled down to a steady mood since he'd regained consciousness the day before, and he suspected his shaking had something to do with it. Optimus couldn't begin to imagine what was going through his head at that moment, and in a way he felt guilty at realizing he was **glad** he couldn't.

They finally came to rest a good ways from the clearing and Optimus sat down, putting his back to a rocky outcropping, letting his hands rest in his lap, one cupping the other as Bumblebee settled with the steadiness of not walking. His concerned eyes, though, were staring straight up at his leader's, as if waiting for him to say something, a subtle note of fear in his own electric blue orbs.

"Is…something wrong, Sir?" Optimus hesitated for only a moment, but then he smiled reassuringly, shaking his head down at him in reply.

"How are you feeling today, Bumblebee? Any better then yesterday? You've barely spoken at all today." He reverted to their native language, adjusting the pitch for Bumblebee's human ears accordingly. He'd noticed through the course of the day that there'd been something about communicating with the Autobots in the language he'd known his entire life, even if he could only listen to it and not speak it, had had a way of soothing the tension he'd had if only a little. This was no exception he realized as he saw the tightness in the muscles of his friend's body ease gently, his concerned expression relaxing a fraction, as if being able to speak in that way only helped reaffirm in even his own mind who he really was, despite the unbelievable situation.

He gave his own hesitation as he thought of a response, finally feigning a soft smile, a shrug of his shoulders, though the expression didn't reach his eyes.

"I'm feeling a little better. I'm still sore, everything hurts, of course. But I…am not quite as startled by it all as I was yesterday. It's just…quite an adjustment, that is all." His voice was weak as he spoke, his eyes turning down as he said it, as if he were unable to meet Optimus' gaze, and it was obvious to the older Autobot that he had been lying. He sighed, a soft hissing sound, like the sound of air being released from hydraulics.

"Are you certain, Bumblebee? You have seemed to be distressed throughout the day." Bee's expression tensed once more, a soft frown crossing his features from above the cloth sling holding his jaw firmly clenched in place, forcing him to continue to speak through his teeth to avoid dislocating it once more.

"I am **fine**, I swear. I simply…need more time to adjust, as I said…It's…**hard**…and…confusing…" The soothing tone Optimus spoke with was carefully modulated to sooth his nerves and coax him into speaking, letting him know that he didn't have to hide what was bothering him from his leader. Optimus listened politely, and it wasn't hard for him to detect the subtle break in Bee's voice as he spoke, a gentle hitch of his breath.

"I do not doubt it is hard, Bumblebee. I am simply worried with your silence. Even when you no longer had the ability to speak, you were always finding ways of making yourself heard. Now you are quieter then if your voice had been lost to you again. You are usually more vocal then you have been." Bee glanced up at him almost nervously, shaking his head and shrugging once more.

"I am sorry if I…have **worried** you, Optimus. It **hurts** to speak too much, and this…"sling" is uncomfortable. I want to move my jaw, but find it frustrating with it restraining me."

"Hopefully you will not need it for very long. It is simply to keep you from dislocating your jaw once more. With luck, Ratchet will have figured out the Decepticon weapon and found a way to return you to your proper form within a short amount of time." He offered helpfully, and Bumblebee sighed through his nose, nodding softly.

"Yes, Sir, I know. I feel foolish for even letting it bother me in the first place. In my real body, I do not have a "jaw" in the human sense of the word, I should not be so frustrated with being unable to move in a way that I wasn't used to in the first place…" Even as he said it, he rubbed and tugged gently at the strap, fidgeting silently as he berated himself for things beyond his control.

"I would assume it is instinctual. When you speak, your human form knows it is supposed to do so in a certain way, and to restrain it from doing so would be understandably frustrating, I am sure." Bumblebee seemed to become more and more agitated as they spoke, his guard letting down enough that he wasn't thinking of holding back what he was thinking as firmly as he had been moments before. He furrowed his brow at what Optimus said, drawing in a shaking breath.

"It is **very** frustrating…As are a great many things about this body…" He clenched and unclenched a fist as he spoke before moving the other hand from the strap to rub at his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache, or were trying to cover his eyes, his breaths drawing in and releasing deeply with increasing frequency, as if every one came out a strained sigh.

"You **are** alright, aren't you? Are you having complications with anything?" Commander or not, Optimus couldn't keep the concern from his voice, his head tilting gently to the side as he watched Bumblebee's behavior, cataloguing everything internally, trying to reference it to the parameters of normal human behavior. Bee hissed from between his teeth frustratedly, and for a long moment he was silent, pinching more firmly against the bridge of his nose.

"I -…By the Allspark, I just -…Everything is so…**different**! It all hurts, my entire body…My head feels like there is a power surge inside…I can't even keep a handle on my own emotions! One moment I'm furious, the next moment my eyes are leaking – I'm sorry, Mikaela called it "crying," – and I want to scream…! I'm…**Primus**! I'm…**frightened** and **confused** and **angry **all at the same time! Everything is a gigantic mess inside my head and I can't keep it clear!" His voice rose steadily, his hand clenching firmly in a fist that he held in front of him as if he wanted to strike something, trembling with the tension of straining muscles. He gave a distinct sniffling sound as he wiped at his eyes firmly, almost angrily, before he growled roughly, tearing the strap away from his face, clutching it tightly in his hand as he flexed his jaw gently, rubbing at it to relieve some of the discomfort caused by doing so. He visibly relaxed, though, once the restraint was removed, sighing and shaking his head, much of the irritation he felt melting away to simply leave a wilted form in Optimus' hand.

"I just…everything…it's so…**quiet**…! I can't interface with **anything**, I can't hear properly, I can't **see** properly, and every nerve in this body is on fire, I can't turn them off, it's just a constant barrage of synapses firing at the slightest breeze! It's like being blind and deaf and under a constant attack at the same time! And I won't even **begin** to discuss the more…**disgusting** aspects of all of this!" He finally looked back up at Optimus, who listened supportively, his eyes filled with as much pain as he'd ever seen in Bumblebee's optics, Robotic or Human alike.

"Sam and Mikaela try to be supportive, I know they mean best, but they have no frame of reference to what it's like, this is all they've ever known! Not even you, the wisest Autobot I've ever known, can have any idea what this is like! Two days ago, all I had to do was to **scan**, to **feel** for you, or Ratchet, or Ironhide, and you were **there**! Now, everything is silent, I can't connect with the World Wide Web, I can't intercept radio transmissions, **nothing**! I feel like I'm **lost** and **alone** in this entire Universe and there's no guarantee I'll ever be found again!" Optimus could sense his friend's mood shifting drastically, his breathing becoming rough, panted gasps as the pain and fear on his face increased with each word he spoke, until he burst into tears, burying his face in his hand, curling in an almost fetal position in Optimus' hands as the emotions he was feeling got the best of him, his entire body trembling uncontrollably. For a long while, his voice cried out in agonized sobs that matched the shaking of his body, and for a moment Optimus suspected the others would hear, if they hadn't already, and come running to his aid.

His half-screams were cut off short with a startled gasp, though, as the strain he put on his delicate jaw muscles caused the bone to dislocate once more, the very reason he'd been ordered to wear the strap in the first place, and he moaned, panting as he pressed against it in pain. He obviously realized there was nothing to be done about it, save for setting it back in place, and he screwed his eyes shut as he put his hands on either side of his jaw, pushing it back sharply until it popped back into place, the sharp pain he felt from it ending just as sharply as it had begun after only a bright flash of even sharper pain. He scrambled to put the restraint back under his jaw, tying it at the back of his head once more, realizing perhaps Ratchet's reasons for making him wear it hadn't been so half-cocked after all, whether it was a great source of irritation for Bumblebee or not.

Optimus took everything in, processing it as he contemplated how to respond, and when he finally did, he spoke slowly, soothingly.

"Bumblebee, I cannot claim to know what you are experiencing at this moment. Wisdom does not mean knowing everything. I understand that you are feeling overwhelmed in this, even **I** would be. But remember, Bumblebee, you are not alone. No matter what, you are amongst friends, and we are here for you. We want to **help** you, first and foremost, we are all worried for you, Sam and Mikaela, and Ratchet, Ironhide, and I. I have been watching you, and I can see that you are struggling with yourself. Do not close yourself off from the rest of us because you do not wish to show us how badly it is troubling you, you will only hurt yourself in doing so. And I do not think even **Ironhide** could find fault in you if you let your emotions get the better of you in a situation like this. Just remember, we are here to help you, you are never alone."

His off-hand, subtle humor about Ironhide's prickly personality drew a soft, unintentional laugh from the crying man and Bumblebee nodded at everything he said, understanding and ultimately believing it even if his confused emotions tried to tell him otherwise. He wiped his face on the sleeve of Sam's jacket, turning to look back up at Optimus for a moment, a thankful smile breaking the tension on his features, this time reflecting out even from his tear-reddened eyes before he glanced back down thoughtfully, a long silence lingering between them thoughtfully before Bumblebee's soft, feeble voice fluttered up towards his leader, a sad, resigned tone in his voice.

"I miss Jazz. And…home…Cybertron. I miss the way it was before the war started. Everything was so peaceful…We…our people are dying out…we don't even have the Allspark to look to any longer…and we only have ourselves to blame…" There were times when Optimus felt that Bumblebee, ever-optimistic and energetic as he usually was, didn't let the weight of their situation bother him, as if it were simply water off a turtle's back. At the same time, he knew there were times when, as young as he was, it bothered Bumblebee perhaps more then any of the others. The same youth that allowed him to spring back from things and maintain his encouraging, uplifting attitude was also at times the same thing that made it that much harder for him to deal with them. Optimus sighed softly.

"We **all** miss our home, and the friend's who've left us behind, Bumblebee. It saddens us all. But…Earth is a **fine** planet, it is beautiful, quiet: it makes a wonderful new home, and we have already made new friends here. And there are others of us out there. It is only a matter of time before they find their way here. Yes, without the Allspark, we cannot return to Cybertron, and eventually our Sparks will fade without it's power supporting us, but that doesn't mean we should regret what we've lost. Especially not one as young as you are, Bumblebee. I like to think even **without** the Allspark, we all have much, much longer to go before we join our lost friends in the Matrix." He soothed gently, though his words drew a soft, hiccupping sob from Bumblebee's lips when he mentioned the eventual death that, for all Cybertronians, had once been inconceivable but had after the start of the war become something they had faced every day. Even autonomous robotic organisms felt the fear of dying.

"This war will **never** end, though…I'm so tired of fighting, I miss the peace and quiet we once had. I never wanted to fight, I simply do because I know it's what I have to do…" His voice was barely a whisper, as if his feelings towards the war were something to be ashamed of. As if Optimus himself didn't feel them himself every waking moment.

"That, my friend, is what makes your actions throughout the past all the more heroic. Anyone can do something they enjoy. It takes a lot of courage and honor to do what you know is right even though you are afraid.You have nothing to be ashamed of, Bumblebee." He stood slowly, drawing a soft gasp from Bumblebee as he reached up to grasp one of his fingers tightly to avoid falling, his eyes blinking up at Optimus in a subtle mixture of shock and pride at his leader's words of praise. "Come on. It's time we got back. They will be wondering where we have gone, and you could use some rest." Slowly, he made his way back to the camp, aware of Bumblebee's eyes on his face as he did so, filled with that amazed expression as he registered all he'd said.


	4. Chapter 4

Yup. Next part. And for the most part, this one follows The Sleepy-Bumblebee scene. I just have to write a little lead-up to it. This is one scene that I've had the giggles about writing ever since I thought it up. gigglesnorts And hey, it's the introduction into my story of the first non-movie G1 character: PROWL! OMG, SWEET! XD Soooo, here's to fighting off the Sambee plot bunnies, and refusing the Human!Prime/Human!Bee plot bunnies that a certain artist on DA tried to spawn in my head from reproducing until they get as out of hand as the Sambee bunnies… It just seems that the pr0nish plot bunnies NEVER. END! I don't know whether I want to ever forget they existed, or give into the yummy yummy disturbing mental images of it all…sighs Sorry, Prime, Sorry, Bee, Sorry, Sam…I'll try to keep them under control, I swear, PLSDON'TSHOOTMEWITHURCANONSANDRIFLE!!!!! Mmmm…Optimus Prime's laser Rifle…hooooot…D'AH! BAD MEL!!!

It also came to my attention that I didn't explain in part three that Bee was fully clothed. Hahaha this led to a bit of amusement, and I felt it best to explain it here that, in between the events of parts 2 and 3, Ironhide took Bee and Sam back to the Witwicky house to clean up and get him some clothing to wear. snickergiggles So no, he wasn't running around in nothing but a jacket, he had a full outfit. Sorry, Bee. XD

Sam had to admit, after he'd had a bit of sleep, Bumblebee seemed to be feeling much better. He didn't seem so depressed or have that constantly-shell-shocked look on his face, and seemed more then willing to engage in normal conversation with him, despite his still-painful jaw. Of course, getting to take a shower for the first time in a few days probably helped, too, though he suspected the little nicks he'd gotten from his first time shaving, **ever**, had irritated him a bit.

His happier mood, however, hadn't stopped him from grabbing Sam's bat as they'd walked out the door, started their walk down to Mikaela's house. Though as a human, Bee was almost a half a foot shorter then Sam and looked, rather deceivingly as Trent DeMarco had found out a few days earlier, weak and about as unthreatening as a man could, it hadn't stopped him yet from insisting that he was still Sam's guardian, Human, Autobot, or otherwise. His lack of a viable weapon had been a source of irritation for him from day one, so when he'd found the heavy wooden ball-club, he'd figured it was as good as anything he'd find short of an actual firearm or blade and had snatched it up in an instant. Sam couldn't help but chuckle to himself softly at the entire thing.

"So what exactly did we have planned for after we got to Mikaela's house again?" Bee shrugged gently, running his hand through his short, damp hair, glancing around them cautiously, ever observant of the things around then.

"I hadn't really thought about it. Optimus said we wouldn't be needed for the most part today, he and Ratchet were going to continue their research on the pulse-bomb, and Ironhide was planning on heading out to seek out the other Autobots we'd received the comm. from. As much as it goes against what I've done for the past Four Millions years, I suppose this is what you could call a…"day off." Frankly, I don't know what to do with myself…" Sam chuckled softly, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he walked.

"Hey, at least it'll give you a chance to see what a normal day for a human is like, eh? That should be fun." Bumblebee gave a soft, noncommittal grunt in response, not positive or negative, and if it came right down to it, he wasn't sure how he felt about that. He was still irritable, despite his lighter mood, and his body still hurt from almost every nerve, though not near as much as it had before. It had finally died down to a dull ache, the bandages wrapped around his chest and shoulder helping to ease the pain of the broken ribs and clavicle as much as they could. He didn't particularly feel like getting any farther into the human way of life then he was in that moment, but he was trying, truly trying, to put up with all of it a little better for Sam and Mikaela's sake.

"I guess first we should get something to eat, though. Is there anything you'd like to try while we're out? You've got an entire cultu-…" his words were cut off by the distinct sound of a loud, clear voice reverberating from a parked car they had passed just moments before without so much as a glance at the vehicle.

"Samuel James Witwicky, ally to Optimus Prime and the Autobots, I have found you, Greetings." Sam blinked in confusion and the two men turned, only to have Sam shriek out in a rather unbecoming way as he found himself knee-to-grill with a blue and white police cruiser, complete with every accessory, bell, and whistle but the driver. Bumblebee put himself between Sam and the vehicle before the sound had even left his ward's lips, the bat held up threateningly as he glared at the speaking, driverless car, adopting a fierce glare and a nimble fighting stance.

"State your name and Allegiance! Are you Autobot or Decepticon???" Sam was confused by Bee's questions for only a moment before he realized that the disguised creature in front of them wasn't the Decepticon he had thought it was upon seeing it, but in fact a different model and color scheme altogether, this one seemingly a brand new, muscle-car styled Crown Victoria instead of the ominous Saleen Mustang that had attacked him once before.

There was a silent, almost surprised pause before the disembodied voice responded, the engine of the cruiser revving gently with the curious tone in it's voice. "**You** are not Samuel James Witwicky and yet you know of us? This is intriguing. You have no need to take up arms against me, I-…"

"Answer the question, Autobot or Decepticon???" Bumblebee, despite his miniscule size, obviously seemed intent on asserting his bravery in the face of what might have been a very impossible fight to win, if it truly were a Decepticon they were conversing with. Even so, there seemed to be a soft chuckle from the vehicle at the bravado of the young human male.

"I am an Autobot, loyal to Optimus Prime. As I said, you have no need to fear from me. I am designated "Prowl," in your language." Bumblebee shook his head, the human translation meaning nothing to him; after all, his own human name wasn't meant to be a direct translation to his true name, as it was almost impossible to find such a word. Each of his kind, Autobot and Decepticon, had taken a name they felt suited them best, though they didn't necessarily have anything to do with their true identity.

"State your Cybertronian name, with your vocal range adjusted to match human range of hearing." "Prowl" seemed rather surprised at this peculiar demand, the engine purr quieting for a moment.

"You understand my language?"

"Yes, now **state** your **name**!" Bumblebee's firm command was followed by a shirt pause and then the same electronic sounds Sam was beginning to recognize more and more from the times he heard Optimus and the other Autobots communicating with Bumblebee trilled from the car, unintelligible as ever to the teen. Bumblebee's reaction was enough to tell, though, that he recognized what was said, his head lifting gently, the bat lowering ever so slightly as his battle-ready stance melted away. He gave a short, barked laugh, and Sam looked at him, his eyebrows lifted as he saw the rapidly expanding grin spreading across his features.

"I…take it he's one of the good guys…?" His only response was a burst of overjoyed laughter rippling from Bumblebee's lips, and he jumped back, startled, as Bee dropped the bat from his hands, actually leaping up and scrambling atop the hood of the car to perch like a large, sentient frog, his hands gripping the ridge of the hood where it met the glass and shaking the entire creature where it sat.

"BY THE SPARK, YOU'VE SURVIVED??? WE HADN'T RECEIVED WORD OF YOU IN SO LONG!!! I WAS AFRAID YOUR SPARK HAD BEEN WIPED OUT!!!" The cop car obviously seemed as taken aback as Sam was with this display of obviously overjoyed relief, the engine itself revving sharply as Bumblebee's voice, rough and raspy though it naturally was, echoed up and down the street around them for everyone to hear. Sam couldn't help but imagine that had Bee been in his true form and this new arrival had introduced himself when they were away from human eyes, he would have tackled him to the ground in a metallic bear hug for a greeting.

"Under…normal circumstances I might think something had effected your sanity…I can't help but feel you have reason to believe you know me..." The tone in that disembodied voice was understandably bewildered, enough to the point that Sam found himself laughing at the entire scene, looking from his friend to the driverless interior of the car, as if that was where the eyes of the disguised alien rested when in that form. At the very least, it was nice to see such an overjoyed expression on the face of the man who had shown nothing but a continuously depressed, unhappy gaze since finding himself with the ability to show any emotion at all by such means.

"I can't speak my **true** name, but you **do** know me! I know it will be impossible for you to believe me in this body, but I was the soldier who led the defensive on Tyger Pax the day Optimus Prime sent the Allspark into space!!! There were only two of us who survived, and I know for a fact that the other was reassigned to **your** squad!!! On this planet, my name is Bumblebee!" There was a sharp, humorously startled sound from Prowl as Bee laughed again.

"Wha-…??? You…But…that soldier's voice capacitor was…damaged beyond repair, how is it that you are speaking to me now???" Bee shook his head, though it struck Sam as slightly strange that the first question asked of him was how he could talk and **not** how he had gone from being a 17 foot tall Autobot to a human being barely over 5 feet tall.

"I recently regained the use of my voice, following a brief contact with the Allspark when Optimus and our team came in contact with it in our attempt to keep it from the hands of Megatron! And trust me, you have **no idea** how much of a relief it is to be able to speak once more after so long!" Though everything Bee was telling him was true, the concern and growing dread Sam heard in Prowl's voice only increased when he spoke once more, and even Bumblebee's ecstatic expression faltered slightly as he sensed his comrade's unease.

"And…yet you are human now…? How did this happen? I believe it's safe to say you weren't this way when you **left** Cybertron…" Bee's smile faded as he settled onto his heels and knees, almost definitely relieving Prowl of the aggravation of having the overly energetic human rocking his frame on his wheels.

"There was an attack approximately a week ago, by Starscream. It lasted only long enough for him to fire a single missile, directed at me, which released a pulse when it struck that, as hard as it is to believe, transformed me to this. I know it's hard to believe, bu-…"

"I believe it much easier then you would think, old friend. Which brings me to my most urgent question: I came looking for Samuel James Witwicky in the hopes he could lead me to Optimus Prime. Now that I have found you, the both of you, I wonder if it would be possible for us to reconvene with our Commander-and-Prime. I have some very troubling news, and if what you tell me is true, it seems I came not a moment too soon." Bee's expression dropped at what he said, worry etching his features as he glanced around them.

"You've had trouble from the Decepticons? Where are the others of your squad? Are you alone?"

"Hound and Red Alert" the names were said in such a way that Sam could hear the human translation and the Cybertronian equivalent being said at the same time, "are headed on their way to us from the Northeast, and Wheeljack will soon be entering the Earth's Atmosphere for his ownlanding. They will meet us as soon as they can." Bee hesitated, a crestfallen look crossing his face as he waited, hoping that Prowl would continue. When he did not –

"What of…the other soldier, who survived Tyger Pax with me?" Prowl's pause was enough to tell even Sam that the news he had of this other Autobot was not what his friend would have hoped for, and when he spoke again, his voice was soft, apologetic in tone.

"Arcee…went to join with the Matrix recently. I'm sorry Bumblebee. I can explain more if you would like me to, once we have rendezvoused with Prime and the rest of your squad." It almost seemed as if Bumblebee had been physically struck, the impact those words had on him, and he simply perched there for a long moment, mouth hanging open, his eyes simply staring at the vehicle underneath him. Finally, swallowing deeply, he nodded and slid from the hood of the police cruiser, bent to retrieve the bat he'd dropped, and walked to the side of the car as the doors opened to allow the two humans inside.

"Bee…? Are…you alright…?" Sam didn't know much of Autobot beliefs, what their theories and ideals were about death, but he knew that for them, "The Matrix" was an idea closely related to the human ideas on "Heaven," from talking with Prime and Ratchet and the others after Jazz had died. It was understandable, then, to him why Bee's demeanor had taken on such a drastic change. His friend didn't look up at him as he spoke, though, simply slipped into the driver's seat of the car, sinking down into the chair with an almost defeated air about him.

"…Let's…just…go, Sam. The others will be happy to see Prowl after so long, and…I think I'm ready for another nap…" Sam simply watched him for a moment before nodding gently, walking around and climbing into the passenger's side seat, both doors shutting after they had settled inside and the car pulling out into the road, making it's way to the usual hiding place for the Autobots. To say that the drive back was quiet would have been an understatement.

Please don't kill me, Arcee fans! The events Prowl described will be explained at a later date, after I've written up the rest of the story. I intend to give it a nice explanation, too. It's not that I don't like the character, honest, I have nothing against her. What happens to her just plays an integral part of the plotline. It's not in vain.

On a more humorous note, though, since this chapter was so short, I decided to give everyone a look-see at the incident with Trent mentioned earlier in this chapter. Hehe. Two small Chapters for the price of one, eh:3

Things were quiet around the neighborhood the day Sam and Bumblebee went back to Mikaela's house, invited over for food. Bee had finally felt well enough to take the strap off of his jaw, with Ratchet's permission this time, and though he still found it hard to breath at times, he seemed to be happier for the absence of the constricting wrap. After they'd eaten they had sat on her porch, the two men almost reluctant to head back, useless as Bee felt while Ratchet and Optimus tried to determine the exact workings of the missile in an attempt to be able to reverse engineer it. Sam and Mikaela talked quietly amongst themselves while Bee sat across from them, fidgeting with the clothes he'd borrowed from Sam, still uncharacteristically quiet and solemn.

They'd been conversing contentedly for almost an hour when Mikaela's attention was drawn to the approach of a large car from down the street. Three heads lifted to watch as an indigo blue Hummer 3 slowed to a stop outside her house and, much to her chagrin, an unhappily familiar group of boys climbed out.

"Hey, Bunny, how's my baby?" The sigh that escaped Mikaela's lips was audible enough that even Trent DeMarco must have heard it from across the yard, and she rolled her eyes.

"What are you doing here, Trent?"

"I just thought I'd come for a visit, you know?" He didn't seem to even be paying attention to Sam and Bee as he sauntered up to the porch, leaning against the wooden banister and grinning at her from behind Bee's shoulder. Mikaela shook her head, looking at the two Men she **really** cared about.

"Well, hate to tell you this, but I've got company over, so if you could just go ho-…"

"Oh, come on, Mikaela, you don't want to hang out with these loser, do you? I mean, seriously??? Wekicky and-…" He blinked as he looked down at Bee, who was giving him a fairly venomous glare from over his shoulder, and seemed to realize he had never seem the man before. "Whoever this dork is??? You can do so much better!"

Sam bristled visibly, sitting up straighter and setting his jaw as he glared back at Trent as the jock's group of friends formed a small cluster of groupies behind him.

"Better **how**??? I doubt she wants to hang out with the Special-Ed club!" Trent sent him a thoroughly dagger-filled grimace as he shifted on his feet, crossing his arms at Sam.

"At least she wouldn't be –…" Mikaela stood before he even had a chance to finish what he was saying, cutting him off before he could even **begin** to start one of his testosterone-filled tirades.

"Trent, look, I've told you this before: I don't want you to come around anymore, alright? I mean it. I don't care what you say, how many times you ask, how **badly** you beg me, I **really** do not want to ever see you again. It's over. End of story. Now if you will **please** get off of my lawn and go back to your rich daddy, I'd **like** to spend time with my friends." Though her tone left no choice for refusal, Trent didn't seem to get the hint, seemed to want to have the last say no matter what.

"Awe, come **on** Babes! You **know** you want me back! So just tell these morons to go away, and we can –"

"She told you to go home." The silent rage that emanated from the man who had, for the most part of the day been silent, was enough to stop Trent's words and cause him to look over at the face that was, surprisingly, almost nose to nose with him as Bee leaned down onto the banister, purposely putting himself right in his face. It startled the jock, finding those furious, bright-blue eyes so close to his face, and he gave a slight yelp, jumping back to put distance between himself and the small man. It took him a moment to regain his composure, and in the process he seemed to fume silently at being caught off guard so easily. He shuffled around on his feet uneasily for a moment before crossing his arms again, returning Bee's silent glare.

"Or what? **You** can't make me move, shrimp! Why don't you go back to your **own** country, **Limey**?" Bee blinked curiously for a moment, unfamiliar with the term that was obvious to everyone else as a slander against the thickly British accent he'd adopted when he'd learned to speak the human language, and tilted his head as if contemplating how to answer.

Instead of speaking, however, he simply stood, walking down the steps of the porch and walking over to the gigantic Hummer, dwarfed by the enormous machine, and gripped the handle, opening the door and holding it open expectantly, turning back to the unwelcome group of men. Trent seemed distressed that this man was doing **anything** with his vehicle, however, and instantly stepped forward, yelling at him with a protective, furious fervor.

"Get your grubby paws off my Hummer, you little shit!" unimpressed with the loud, booming voice, Bee simply glanced down at the vehicle as if suddenly seeing it for the first time, curiously eyeing everything about it before he scoffed softly, turning back to Trent and eyeing him with one lifted eyebrow, a lop-sided smirk on his face. "What are you smiling at???"

He chuckled in response, glancing around at the vehicle again, at the interior curiously, before back at Trent, scratching his cheek softly in a mock-sheepish gesture he'd picked up from the humans since he'd been on Earth. "Hmm? Oh…haha…just…remembering what Sam told me about…how you reacted when you first saw **his** car…" His eyes went to Sam and Mikaela on the porch, and he almost laughed out loud at the weary gaze they shared with each other as they distinctly recalled the day Sam had driven down to the lake, pretending to belong there as he pulled up in a certain yellow beater Camaro, only to be confronted by DeMarco and his groupies, who proceeded to scoff at the very same "car" who was now holding open the door to show them they weren't welcome. The irony, and potential trouble, in the situation did not escape them, obviously.

"Yeah…what about it?" Trent's voice belied the fact that he obviously didn't feel too comfortable with the acidic smirk that rested on the man's face. Bee simply shrugged, letting out another laugh, looking back up at Trent, his eyebrows lifted almost challengingly.

"Oh, nothing…I just…well…" He couldn't help the truthfully very amused laugh that left his lips despite himself. "It's just** really hilarious** that you thought for even a ** moment** that this…**hunk of slag** could even compare…" It wasn't hard to tell that the laughter coming from his voice was truthfully amused. Had they not known the real reason for his amusement in the situation, they might not have worried quite as much as they were.

"Man, what the Hell are you talkin' about??? That old heap looked like it'd just rolled up out of a scrap yard!!! Did you even **see** that old thing???" Bee laughed again, covering his eyes in his hand for a minute as the others watched him nervously, Trent looking like he was ready to pounce him at the first possible sign of trouble. Sam stood quietly, his eyes on Bee the entire time, worry etched onto his features.

"Hey, Bee, come back inside, we'll let 'em sit out here while we go inside, ok? You know what Ratchet would say if you…well…yah know…" Bee's laughter settled gently as he shut the door to the Hummer, and everyone almost relaxed, Bee's demeanor easing slightly as he looked back up at Sam.

"Yes, I know, It would be **years** before I lived it down." He replied with a laugh, throwing his hands up in a sort of gesture of resignation. He turned to look at the Hummer, walking up and down it's length, his eyes scanning every inch of it curiously. "Huh…You know…I'm really not that impressed. Ratchet…er…**"his**" Hummer **really** makes this one look like a toy, you know? It's laughable."

"Get away from my Hummer, kid, I mean it!" obviously given confidence now that Bee wasn't touching his "toy," Trent seemed ready to pick the man up and toss him across the yard to vent his frustrations over the situation. Bee didn't even seem to register that he'd said anything, though, as he paused in his steps, looking down at the ground and bending to pick something up from the grass, turning it over in his fingers curiously before holding it up and showing Sam and Mikaela from across the yard.

"Huh. Rusty nail." His voice was nonchalant as he said it, but Mikaela soon stood to join Sam as they watched him turn back, the hand holding the long metal object turned now to the street. To Trent's precious Hummer. And he walked back down the length of the vehicle, this time digging the sharp tip of the nail firmly into the paint, pressing hard enough to dimple the fiberglass as a loud, screeching sound similar to that of nails on a chalkboard sang terribly in the air, a long, bright, ugly scratch following him all the way to the front fender. He glanced back at the damage once he stopped, feigning surprise as he turned back to look at the others around him. "Oh, By the Spark, look at that! How foolish of me!"

The look on Trent's face would have stopped the hearts of normal humans, his face bright read, skewed in a shocked, furious expression that made him look as if he'd channeled Satan himself. All eyes were on him as he shook violently, his hands clenched in fists for a few long moments, and the instant Bee's eyes finally landed on his, he let out the loudest, most horrific cry of rage any of them aside from Bee had heard. He, however, had faced the rage of Megatron when he himself had caused him to lose his chance at gaining control of the Allspark on Cybertron, and as such, he didn't feel the least bit impressed in the display.

The cold fury in Bee's eyes, the challenging glare he sent Trent's way, was enough to break the final straw in the football player's control, and he rushed Bumblebee, his fists flying wildly as he moved in to kill the tiny human who'd damaged his most precious possession.

"I'LL **GUT YOU ALIVE!!!**"

It was no problem for Bee to duck the fists that flew his way, his foot darting out to trip the jock, using his momentum to propel him forward, a loud crack sounding through the air as his head met the same scratched blue fiberglass that had sent him into such a rage. Bee stepped back, crossing his arms as he waited for Trent to stand, tilting an eyebrow up at him as the furious and now-stunned man turned to glare at him.

"I'm **waiting**…"

"Bumblebee, be **careful!**" Bee turned for only a moment, glancing up at Sam and Mikaela's worried expressions, and was in the process of giving them a reassuring but wickedly playful smirk when Trent regained his senses, using his distraction to his advantage to lunge once more, his fist flying more surely this time. The sound of his running feet drew Bee's attention back to his opponent, but only just in time to take the blow to the side of his jaw, throwing him roughly to the ground.

He lay there for a long moment, gasping for breath as Trent towered over him, panting and growling with each breath.

"**Bumblebee**??? Your name is **Bumblebee**??? What kind of a **fag, pussy** name is that??? I'm going to enjoy tearing you apart **so much!** And When I'm done, I'll **carve** your prissy name into your **face** just like you keyed my **Hummer**!!!" Soft groans came from the man laying on the ground, and Mikaela and Sam ran down the stairs of the porch in an attempt to help him up, only to be stopped by the other jocks who'd come with Trent. Bee put a hand to his jaw, looking up at his two friends as tears of pain streamed down his face, but the gaze that was in his eyes was one that frightened them, and one that Mikaela dimly remembered from the moment she'd popped his jaw back into place the first time, only to have him regain consciousness from the pain and attack her in a blind fight reflex.

He stood slowly, pressing firmly against his jaw with both hands, a loud crack filling the air as he pushed it back into place for now the third time, his patience with the injury nearing it's breaking point. When he turned back to Trent, though, he took a firm, agile defensive stance, his hands balled into tight fists in front of him.

"Is that all? Please. Don't make me **laugh**." Before Trent could even react, he was moving, dancing in close and sending a firm punch to the jocks abdomen, the blow coming faster and harder then anyone would have expected before he was bobbing out of the way, his smaller size allowing him to dance around him as if his feet weren't even touching the ground. He came up behind him, sending his foot sharply at the back of his knee, and Trent toppled over onto the ground, crying out sharply as Bee came down on his knee in the center of his back, holding him down despite his much smaller size, gripping his head in the crook of his arm, lifting his head up in a choke hold.

The entire thing had taken a span of time no longer then the blink of an eye, and when Trent finally realized what had happened, it was too late. He leaned in close to Trent's ear, even as the jock's friends backed up, completely forgetting about restraining Sam and Mikaela.

"I have been a soldier for longer then you can **even** imagine. I have had an **extremely** bad week, and the **last** thing I need is some **slagging bully** coming around and starting fights with my friends! Do you **understand**, you **worthless** piece of filth???" The fire that dripped from Bumblebee's lips sent chills down even Sam and Mikaela's backs, but Trent, obviously wanting to keep the upper hand, struggled against the hold he was in, grunting in protest.

"Who do you think you are??? Let me up you little shit, I'm gonna –AAH!" There was an almost audible crunch as Bee's fist slammed down against Trent's ribs just under his shoulder blade, knocking his breath out and drawing a pained whimper from his lips.

"**Wrong Answer**!!! I asked if you **understand**! **Do. You. Understand**???" This time, Trent simply whimpered, nodding weakly in response, and finally, Bee released his head, letting it fall back to the ground with a resounding thunk as he stood up, standing above the unhappy football player. "Good. Now **get off her lawn** and don't you **ever** bother Mikaela or Sam again, do you **hear me???** Trust me, I'll know if you do, and I'll come looking for you…the next time that happens, I be back to my **usual** self, and may the Matrix help you if I am…"

Trent clambered weakly to his feet, stumbling over to the group of boys who had long since put almost the entire yard's distance between themselves and Bumblebee. He mumbled something at them through the pain in his voice, something that was hard for them to understand literally, but who's meaning was translated easily enough. It wasn't long before the doors to the Hummer were slamming shut and the vehicle peeled out of the driveway, tearing off down the street.

The silence that lingered between the three remaining friends seemed to drag on for an hour before Bee simply sighed, his hand going back to his jaw, holding it and rubbing at it irritably, shaking his head.

"Bumblebee, are you alright?" He glanced back up at Sam as if he had forgotten he was there, nodding softly as the previously murderous glare he'd held faded from his face to a look of quiet, tired resolve, the same sort of look he'd held not ten minutes before, only with a touch of fear.

"Yes, I'm fine…Just wondering what Ratchet will do to me once I come back and he finds out I've dislocated my jaw again. And…what **Optimus** will do when he finds out what I just did…" It certainly didn't escape Sam and Mikaela's awareness, the fact that more then likely, Optimus would be absolutely furious, regardless of what Ratchet would say. That, they suspected, was more what troubled Bumblebee, what his Commander's reaction would be to all of it.

Mikaela shook her head softly, putting and arm around his shoulders comfortingly as he sighed, looking more then a little irritated with his own actions. "You didn't have to do that, Bee. But…thank you. And I'm sure we'll think of something. We'll just explain to him. He'll understand, right?" Bee shook his head softly, rubbing at the bridge of his nose frustratedly, though he didn't answer.

They stood there silently for another moment before finally he gave a soft sigh, breaking the tension between them, but not the worry, like a bunch of children worried that they would be caught in the act of breaking their father's "Golden Rule" the moment he lay eyes on them all. "Well…whatever…we'll worry about it when it comes to it. Let's just go inside. We can wait for Ironhide to come pick you two up from the living room."

They trekked inside the house, Mikaela finding her first aid kit in the closet and bringing Bee the roll of gauze so he could wrap his jaw up once again, as each of them sat on the couch in silence, Bumblebee letting his head fall back against the back of the couch, his eyes drifting closed as he dozed gently, waiting for the eldest Autobot to come take them back to the hideout.


	5. Chapter 5 Full Version start

So yeah, I decided to start writing this in the typical fashion. . Soooo…I'll repost it. Hehe Or something. O.o So without much ado, here's the real version. I'll keep the first chapters up until I have written their parts into their proper places in the story, just so you can read them if you feel like doing so. Heh x.X

The first part will have more to it, I'm continuing where I left off, so you can skip ahead to what you haven't read yet. I do have 1 warning. If you don't like images of violent deaths, you might want to be wary of the second scene in this…it's a depiction of the death of Arcee mentioned in the last "chapter." I felt so sad writing it, and I don't really even know the character! TT.TT

And OMG, I just have to say…WOOHOOOO!!! I can't believe this story is already like…40 pages!!! I haven't even begun to write a quarter of it!!! I never thought I'd be able to write a full-length-novel of something! Haha XD If I actually get the entire thing written, it'll be a FULL LENGTH BOOK!!! OoO giddy!!!

Oh yeah…and I'd be happy to have any suggestions for a good title. XD I SUCK at titles! Rofl!

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Mikaela stopped her vespa, pushing it up over the crest of a tall hill beside the road as she followed the familiar, loud, happy sounding purr of Bumblebee's engine. She could hear Sam's voice saying something in that high, excited chirp that in teenaged males usually meant something exciting, illegal, dangerous, or just plain stupid was about to happen, and Bee's voice gave a faintly robotic giggle in response, loud and unmistakable. Mikaela furrowed her brow in automatic curiosity and no small amount of concern, and hurried over the hill.

As she crested the top, she found herself facing a tall, old hill of paving gravel, long since forgotten by the state highway department when they had finished redoing the small road years earlier. Sam was standing to the side of it, looking like an insect next to Bumblebee, who was busy…constructing…well, what looked like some sort of ramp that faced the artificial sand dune. Most of it looked pre-constructed, a gigantic metal frame standing almost as tall as the 17 foot Bee himself, as if they had made it somewhere else and then found a way to cart it here.

"What are you doing…?" She asked, almost afraid to hear the answer, and both the boy and the robot looked up at her, Sam grinning in greeting and Bumblebee's eyes smiling where his metallic mouth couldn't.

"Greetings Mikaela!"

"Bumblebee's going to jump the ramp and land in the sand hill! We found it a couple of weeks ago, and decided since no one needed it, we'd have fun with it instead!"

Mikaela stared from Sam to Bee, blinking gently as if she hadn't understood them, both of them grinning at her expectantly.

"You're going to…I'm sorry, **what???**"

"I'm going to start far enough from the ramp to reach my full speed, using it's angle to launch myself into the air, transform, and allow myself to go into a freefall that will be cushioned by the gravel" Bee explained matter of factly, as if it weren't insane to her ears.

Mikaela simply nodded slowly, her brain running through the possible catastrophes that could be caused by this rather troubling idea she was sure had originally started out as **Sam's** brainchild.

"Why are you doing this? Are you sure you won't…**break** something? Does Optimus know? Maybe you should call Ratchet here first…" Sam shook his head at her obvious concern, pointing at the dune behind him.

"He'll be fine. He knows what he's doing. You should have heard him calculating the entire thing!" Mikaela couldn't help but feel a sort of dread settle in the pit of her stomach for Bumblebee, despite Sam's attempt at reassurance, Bee's eager, animated nod, and the happy way he hummed to himself, the radio playing quietly from somewhere in his large body, his voice capacitor purring along with it as he went back to putting the final pieces of the ramp together. It didn't help that most of the construction seemed to be made from scrap metal taken from God only knew where.

Perhaps to an outsider, her concern for the large robotic "man" would seem strange, they might not be able to see past the metal exterior of his body. But to Mikaela and Sam, as well as anyone else who took the time to spend with Bumblebee, he was, just as much as a human being, a kind and friendly creature, quick to befriend those who didn't pose a threat to him, his robotic Autobot comrades, or the humans he'd already befriended.

Mikaela saw him as a true friend, closer then the girls she talked to at the High School, simply much, much larger, and loaded to the gills with plasma cannons. It was only natural for her to worry for the safety of a friend when she found them planning to do something…well…**crazy. S**he shook her head, watching as the final piece of the ramp was set into place, and Bee stepped back, seeming to almost smile with his eyes at his handiwork, and in the blink of an eye, he had shifted into the form of that familiar yellow and black Camaro, his engine revving excitedly as he started driving off, putting distance between himself and the ramp.

"Sam, I think you really **should** rethink this! I mean…Bee has things to do, anyway, right? What about the Decepticons??? He's supposed to be listening for communications between them, isn't he???" Sam shook his head, glancing back at her, and then pulling her a safer distance from the mountain of gravel and rocks.

"There hasn't been any sign of the Decepticons since the battle of Mission City. I'm starting to hope they're really going to stay away." Mikaela was about to speak again, in an attempt to find **something** to make them stop what they were doing, the feeling of dread still hanging over her head, when she heard the sound of Bumblebee's engine revving in the distance and looked over, shock and foreboding fear etched onto her features as he peeled out, throwing dust and dirt and rocks into the air, roaring across the abandoned field.

Sam cheered him on as Bee rocketed past them, gunning it as he neared the ramp, and then shot up into the air. The sound of gears shifting and changing filled the air as he transformed high above their heads and let himself relax into a freefall, and Mikaela could have sworn she heard him giving an energetic, playful cry as he fell, seconds before she gave her own cry of terror and turned, covering her eyes in the same instant the loud boom of his landing filled the air, rocks and gravel and dirt flying everywhere, pelting her and Sam where they stood.

When she opened her eyes again, the cloud of dust that filled the air was so thick, so murky, that she was unable to see even three feet in front of her own eyes, and she coughed, covering her mouth and nose with her shirt as she rushed forward, afraid of what she would see when she found the large Autobot. Sam was close on her heals, though his reaction was the polar opposite of hers, laughing and hooting out excitedly. It took a moment for any sound or sight to reach them from the place Bee had landed, but when it did, it was enough to make Mikaela breathe deeper despite herself.

Coughing and laughing at the same time in his raspy, mechanical voice, Bee was clambering to his large feet in the middle of what had once been a hill of gravel, now scattered and thrown halfway across the field. Sam ran up to his foot, jumping up and down in excitement, looking like a human version of the hyperactive Chihuahua he kept for a pet, and yelling up at his robotic friend in a flurry of almost incoherent words. Bee laughed more surely, his coughing receding as he bent down to pick him up and place Sam on his shoulder, the two jabbering at each other excitedly, while Mikaela stopped at his foot, grabbing gently onto one of the rods in his leg, glaring up at him.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous that was??? You could have been seriously hurt, Bumblebee!!!" She scolded loudly, and the two males looked down at her, their expressions unchanging as Sam laughed.

"I am perfectly alright, Mikaela. There was no harm done. It was quite amusing, actually." Bee chirped happily in his mimicked British voice.

"Seriously, Mikaela, he's alright, you don't have to be angry with him! It was just for fun!"

All she did for a long moment was just glare up at the two, crossing her arms and wanting to be furious with the two. Finally, though, she sighed, beginning to scrape the gravel along the ground with her foot, raking it into the beginnings of a tiny pile.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get over here and help me." They stared at her for a second, seemingly perplexed at her strange actions.

"What are you doing???" She shot Sam a look, frowning softly and pointing at the gravel that had been sprayed in all directions.

"I'm getting it all collected together again, what does it look like??? Did you honestly expect to do something that insane without me wanting to see it again???" Even as she tried her hardest to keep the anger in her expression, she cracked a smile, shaking her head and letting out irritated growls about "stupid boys" and "stupid awesome stunts" begrudgingly, and the males started laughing at her, realizing in the end they'd won the argument as Bee bent down, letting Sam drop to the ground, and together they began raking it into a great, big pile once more. Apperently it wasn't only **boys** and their **robot cars **that found "stupid stunts" amusing.

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The cloaking frequency sent out by the pair of mechanoid figures had allowed them to successfully make their way into the immense ship's hull, The tiny, subtly-feminine figure sticking close to it's much larger companion. Their soft communications were sent out over a secret frequency, allowing them to speak to one another without the sound reverberating through the metal walls.

"I can't believe we made it onboard…We have to be careful. Everything about this feels like a trap…"

"Yes, I know, but we've made it this far, we can't turn back now. Prowl will want information we can relay to Optimus Prime when we follow his transmission." The small, pink-colored robot glanced up at her companion as he spoke, her canon drawn but uncharged, everything about her demeanor displaying her battle-ready status.

"But Hound…what if **that** is a trap, as well? We both know the Decepticons wouldn't stop at using such a transmission to lure us into an ambush! Something about this entire thing just doesn't settle right with me! Where are the Decepticons? We've been searching the ship for what seems like joors! Why haven't we seen any sign of them??? I know for a fact we were picking up life-signs when we scanned the ship!" Hound sighed mechanically, looking down at her.

"Yes, Arcee, those same questions have entered my own processor. But we both know the transmission was sent out over Autobot channels, I hope to Primus that the Decepticons haven't found a way to patch into our secure channels. And I can't help but be even more curious about what the Decepticons are doing this close to the Sol system **because** of the deserted nature of this ship…" Arcee shook her head resignedly, looking back the way they'd come hesitantly, keeping her eyes open for anyone who might be following them while Hound himself kept watch over the way they were headed.

"I…simply find it hard to accept. All these years of fighting, and Megatron is now **dead**??? It seems like all I can remember is this fragging war! And now he's been **defeated**??? I can't believe it!" Hound chuckled softly in response, knowing her feelings mirrored those he was feeling as well, despite himself.

They walked on in silence for a long time afterwards, the troubling lack of Decepticon activity never changing. They'd already searched the cargo hold, the hanger, even the medical bay, with no sign of their mortal enemies. As they turned another corner, they found themselves standing outside what appeared to be a research bay, large windows set in the walls, allowing viewers to see what was being done from the outside. The room seemed as empty of Cybertronian life as all the others they'd searched, save for a large, strange device standing in the middle of the floor, cables and tools and computers hooked up to it and scattered all across the room. It stood easily taller then Arcee, almost as large around it's widest point as Hound's girth, and was of a decidedly Decepticon design. It's purpose, though, escaped the two soldiers as they stared at it through the windows.

"What is that, do you think? Should we investigate? It may be important."

"I don't know. Look at the monitors. They're all active. It looks as if someone has been working on this thing recently. We should be careful…" Hound nodded in acknowledgement, scanning the device with his optics, logging it in his memory banks even as they neared the entry hatch to the research bay, Arcee's head darting around her, her suspicions heightened even more by the discovery of the bizarre device.

As they were entering the hatch, a sound from their rear made Hound pause, turning back to glance behind them even as Arcee continued, not seeming to realize that her much larger companion had stopped. Nothing seemed to move around them for a long moment, and Hound was just about to continue after her when the sound of a voice giving out a sharp cry came from inside the room, both Autobots stopping dead in their tracks to look for the source of the voice in alarm.

Before either of them knew what had happened, the hatch to the research bay had slammed shut, the hiss of the hydraulics the only warning Hound received before he was knocked aside, Arcee's feminine voice crying out to him from the other side as the hatch separated the two. He tried to force his way into the room even while he kept a worried eye on his companion through the window in the hatch, banging on it roughly, slamming his shoulder against it as hard as he could.

He saw the electricity crackling over the device before she did, blue bolts of energy rippling over it as it began to charge itself, a low whine audible to his sensitive scouting audio-sensors even through the hatch. Arcee turned, staring in confusion and fear as rods slid into place on the strange machine, gears turning and unrecognizable parts coming to life, the computer monitors around it displaying unintelligible readings.

Hound shouted at her to step back, and she looked back at him, hurrying to the side as she saw his canons charged and aimed at the hatch, moving to duck for cover. The sound of the blasts, though, was muffled, and they both realized in dread that the shots had done little more then scratch the heavy, shielded hatch. He growled in fury, rushing to the window nearest Arcee, trying to break through to get to her. Even as he struggled to find a way to get his friend and comrade out of what he increasingly suspected was a very dangerous situation, she was turning her back to him, staring at the object as the whine and hum of energy and engines grew louder.

And then it happened: Hound was temporarily blinded by a brilliant flash of blue light, the energy stored by the device exploding out in the room , rolling over everything inside. He heard Arcee fall back against the window, crying out in shock and surprise, and when he regained the use of his visual sensors, Hound ran back to the window, peering through in an attempt to see if she were seriously injured. She lay on the ground, his scanners telling him that physically she seemed unharmed, but watching in horror as her body writhed in obvious pain. Before his very eyes, her body began to take on a strange color, a strange appearance, and he gaped at her, shocked and horrified at what he saw.

The sheen of her metallic body faded, taking on the appearance of having the same soft texture as the rubberized chords and tubing that ran through the internals of all Cybertronians. Her body shifted, joints and armour and plating fusing together before his very eyes, her form shrinking almost imperceptibly as her form expanded in certain places, became more slender in others, what seemed like dark, impossibly thin wires sprouting from the top of her head.

He watched as the transformation seemed to slow, finally ceasing, and after an agonizingly long moment, she stirred, her head lifting to look at herself, shaking and trembling in shock before her eyes looked frantically towards the window where he stood, gaping and horrified at what he saw, at the disturbing lack of a living glow in her optics.

Their look only lasted for an instant before there came the loud, distinct sound of laughter through the window and they both looked up to see another hatch, one they hadn't noticed before, sliding open, allowing entrance to a dimly familiar Decepticon. Arcee seemed to panic, running back to the hatch she'd entered through as their enemy strode over towards her with long strides, trying once more to force it open. Hound yelled at the Decepticon as it sent him a wicked, spiteful grin, ignoring his cries of protest as it reached down to pick up the transformed Arcee in his much-larger hand.

She cried out in pain, struggling against the hand that held her, and even as Hound heard the sounds of voices and metal feet storming down the corridor towards him, he watched in horror as the hand tightened, the horrible cackling of her captor rising maliciously as he began crushing her as if she were nothing more then a piece of rubberized cables. He couldn't take his eyes off of the tortured, changed body of his friend, even when the Decepticon looked back at him through the window, held her out at arms length, still screaming, the pain in her voice enough to hurt even Hound's mechanical ears. With a final, vicious motion, Arcee's cries cut off, her body going horrifically limp as the gigantic fist crushed firmly around her, displaying her lifeless body as red liquid dripped from her open lips.

Hound found himself staring, horrified, at her body even as he heard the sounds of footsteps nearing, and it wasn't until a plasma blast impacted the wall near his head that he tore himself from the sight, looking around in horror as he realized that company was quickly on it's way. In an instant, he was transforming, changing to his four-wheeled land-travel mode, and he tore off down the corridor, the sounds of transformations being made behind him as his persuers shifted into their own vehicular modes, chasing after him, yelling out threats and taunts to torment him.

Part of his processor had already forced himself to temporarily block out the sight he'd just seen, his flight instinct taking over as he careened down the hallways they'd been exploring at high speeds, crashing into walls and corners as he tried his hardest to stay one step ahead of the Decepticons. He didn't know how he remembered the way they'd come, how he remembered the way **out** so easily, and it wasn't until he found himself crashing through the hatch to the hanger bay that he realized he'd been running on mental auto-pilot. He pushed his engine as hard as it would go, feeling the pain of pushing himself almost too far, ignoring the pain he felt from the plasma shots that had connected with his armour in his flight, when he saw the hanger bay hatches closing, his view of the emptiness of space outside shrinking with each passing second.

He leapt at the last instant, transforming to his bipedal form as he lunged through the hatches the instant before they were sealed, and then again into his meteoroid form, using the gravity of a nearby tiny, lifeless planet to pull him farther from the ship, his pain only increasing as he felt the ship's canons firing at him, grazing his body and knocking him around like a grain of sand. He transmitted frantically, sending out a distress signal to the ship he knew was waiting just on the other side of the planet, calling for help even as he left the firing range of the Decepticon vessel. He felt an immense wave of relief as he saw the smaller ship, the Ark II, flying from it's hiding place and rocketing to meet him.

He tried his hardest to direct himself towards the open, awaiting hanger as the pilot adjusted the angle of the ship to come towards him, to catch him in his escape. He shifted to his vehicle form and braced himself for impact, and when he finally crashed through the hanger hatch, he had only the far wall, and the ship's sudden gravitational field and artificial atmosphere to stop him. He crashed loudly against the wall, reverting to his protoform, curled up on the ground as the sound of Red Alert's voice cried out to him in alarm, his feet banging loudly on the metal floor as he rushed to his aid.

The roar of the Ark II's engines and the vibrations as the ship picked up speed underneath him told Hound that they were already rushing to escape, to put as much distance between themselves and the approaching Decepticon ship as they could, and Hound finally allowed himself the chance to give in to the pain and shock of what had happened, of his wounds and horror over his friend's death. Red Alert had already begun to scramble to administer first aid to his battered body as he felt his coherence slipping, and he gave into the darkness of unconsciousness, his large, mechanoid form sagging on the deck of the hanger as emergency stasis overcame him.


	6. Chapter 6

All things considered, it hadn't taken them quite as long as Sam would have expected to clump most of the strewn gravel back into a pile, given Bumblebee's large, mechanical hands. His sound system had gone back to playing music loudly, changing stations from time to time to find songs the large alien robot had taken a liking to in the four years since he'd first come to Earth, disguised as a busted up, old Camaro. They talked amongst themselves quietly, about small things like the new school year quickly approaching within the month and about other things that, considering the recent events of a few months past, didn't seem all that important even though the humans still felt like conversing about, in an attempt to keep up the resemblance of a normal life. And they had almost finished shoving the rocks back together, Bumblebee working to form it into another large pile, when Sam stood straight, stretching his back and looking up at the hot summer sky.

It didn't seem to register on his mind at first, the tiny dot just above the horizon, or even the sharp, high-pitched whine that to any other human was a relatively common sound. Even when he **had** taken notice of the quickly-approaching object, it didn't strike him as odd; it was, after all, something humans were so very used to seeing that they rarely paid them any attention at all. Never the less, Sam felt himself compelled to point it out, smiling softly to himself as his arm reached up to gesture at the metallic-grey colored object.

"Look, a jet." Even before he'd spoken the words, Mikaela had noticed it, too, and had stopped what she was doing, looking up at it with a hand shielding her eyes from the bright sun. She, however, seemed a little more **uneasy** about the sight, and it took a moment for Sam to realize why, his years of experience seeing the fighter planes as nothing more then fun flying machines that boys had posters of on their walls overcoming the few sightings he'd had of the large, hulking creature who'd tried to kill him months earlier. Everything about the battle in Mission City was, for the most part, a blur of images and sounds, and most of the recollections of what form each Decepticon had taken on were hazy, hard to remember.

It wasn't long, though, before his own mind picked up on what Mikaela's had already begun to fear, and as Bumblebee stopped what he was doing, his speakers dimming softly as he turned cautious eyes to the fast-flying plane, Sam's form went rigid, his eyes quickly flashing to keep an eye on his robotic friend's posture and reaction to the jet, even if he found his sudden unease a little silly.

Bee, on the other hand, didn't take long before he was walking away from the pile of gravel, every sensor quickly adjusting to focus on the jet fighter as he unconsciously put himself between Mikaela, Sam, and the airborne machine. He sensed no alarming radio signals, nothing to cause him alarm with the signals the jet was giving off, but there was something disturbingly familiar about it, about the hum of that engine as it flew closer and closer, and as it flew nearer, seemed to drop in altitude the closer it got, the energy signals the young Autobot spy registered from the jet translated more and more into the energy signals commonly given off by the very creatures that had six months earlier tried to kill him, his friends, and the entire human race.

He shook his head, his posture going into a light-footed stance, as if he were ready to leap at the slightest sign of trouble, ready to intercept an attack that might come, and the two humans had no problem noticing it as he waved them back. "Sam, Mikaela, take cover, quickly…"

"Bumblebee…?" The young woman's voice asked tentatively, fear etching her words, as if asking him to tell her that it **wasn't** what she thought it was, even as her and her boyfriend moved to put distance between themselves and their guardian, to take shelter wherever they could, though unfortunately the only place that would be any safer then where they were was perhaps behind the mound of sand, or in the ditch beside the road.

"Just…take cover. I'm not picking up any Decepticon transmissions or communications, but…" his voice trailed off as his optics picked up movement from the not-so far-away plane, and every fear they had was reinforced as he recognized the form of arms and legs sprouting from the bottom and sides of the jet, a familiar form taking shape, canons and another, unrecognizable and new weapon locking into place.

Bumblebee cried out for them to run, instantly beginning to send out a distress signal to Optimus Prime, Ratchet, and Ironhide, telling them where they were, that they had been ambushed, asking for help as Starscream rocketed towards them. He dimly heard the shriek of distress from Mikaela as she and Sam took off running, trying their hardest to get out of harm's way as Bumblebee's own canons locked into place, instantly firing out at the Decepticon. He was upon them in an instant, flying low over their heads, like an eagle swooping down at it's prey, rapid-fire projectile launchers firing at Bee with frightening accuracy.

While the incendiary rounds did little damage to his protective armour, Bee still did his best to avoid the shots, following the attacker with his aim as he watched him turn, making a wide angle back towards them, and once more Bumblebee put himself in between the human children and Starscream, anger coursing through his processor as he tried to shoot down the flying Decepticon. He still remembered who it was that had fired the missile that had cost him his old legs in Mission City, and he couldn't help but take a little frustration at the memory out in the way he roared threats and challenges in Cybertronian at the unfortunately much-larger mech.

He didn't have time to watch where Sam and Mikaela had finally hidden themselves as Starscream took another pass over their heads, but instead of firing at Bee with the rapid-fire projectiles, the other alien fired out with the new, unfamiliar weapon, a large, dark missile-like object screaming through the air at him.

The sound of Sam's voice crying out for him to "watch out" alarmed him in it's close proximity, and in an instant he was stepping forward, moving as quickly as he could to put himself between the projectile and the source of his humans' voices, firing at it in an attempt to take it down before it struck. He was too late, though, and he had only an instant to send another distress signal in the instant he realized it before he felt the ground underneath his large feet explode with the impact of the weapon, sending him careening into what had once been the mountain of sand as a horrible, inexplicable pain tore through his mass. He tried to fight it off, tried to push down the agony in an attempt to climb back to his feet, but every gear and piston in his frame seemed to be fighting with him, refusing to obey his commands, and he could only collapse onto the ground beneath him as the shooting pain threatened to drive him mad. Even as his optics dimmed and he felt his processor losing coherence, he realized that the loud, sharp cries he heard were his own, until the world went black and he knew nothing else.

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Sam had barely had enough time to shield Mikaela with his own body before the dirt and rocks and clumps of earth were raining down around them, the loud explosion causing his ears to ring. He saw for an instant a bright flash of blue light, and it reminded him of the pulse the Allspark had given out six months ago during his race through Mission City. It shot across the ground in an ever-widening arc, and he felt his nerves tingle and jerk for a moment as it rolled over he and Mikaela.

A horrible, familiar sound reached his ears, and he felt his chest tighten in horror as memories of Bumblebee ensnared and struggling against human captors, sobbing in his high-pitched, mechanical way in Mission City after he'd lost his legs flashed before his eyes. Mikaela obviously heard it, too, and in an instant they were both up, crying out to their robotic guardian, finding themselves unable to see through the cloud of dust that had collected in the air after the explosion.

Though they were relieved to hear the sounds of the jet-looking Decepticon's engines receding inexplicably in the distance, Bumblebee's cries ensured that their relief wouldn't last, and they followed it to the best of their ability, clambering over piles of rock and dirt and the metal that had seemingly once been the stunt-ramp. As horrible as it was for the humans to **hear** their friend's pain, though, it paled in comparison to the horror and dread they felt when it stopped, leaving only silence in it's wake. They cried out louder, the worry evident in their voices, even when Sam found himself stepping into a deep hole, tumbling down into the crater caused by the blast as the dust-cloud began to clear.

He found himself rolling to a stop beside a pale, unconscious form, confusion etching his features as he stared down at a strange, blonde male, naked and laying contorted and half-buried in the paving-gravel and sporting a worrying, bloody-looking patch of hair against his forehead. He cried back to Mikaela as he looked around himself for any sign of Bumblebee, wondering where the man had come from even as his concern for his alien best friend tore through him. His girlfriend's sharp cry of surprise preceded her short tumble after him, and she landed hard beside Sam, her eyes instantly going to the third human.

"Where's Bumblebee??? Who's this guy???" The confusion was evident in her voice, mirroring the way Sam felt, but he simply shook his head, still looking around them.

"I don't know…stay with him, I think he was hurt in the attack. I'm going to go look for Bee!" Mikaela nodded, having enough clarity of mind to untie the long, crocheted shawl from around her hips and drape it over the naked man's form while Sam struggled to climb out of the crater. By the time he had managed to liberate himself from the slippery, crumbling sand, the blinding cloud of dirt had mostly settled, and he turned in confusion, surveying the damage around them, finding no sign of the large, yellow mechanoid alien.

He gaped in confusion, walking down the hill to the highway, looking all around for his friend, and back up, thinking to look even behind what was left of the hill of sand, small as it was. Despite what had happened only moments before, though, the only thing he could find of alien design was the large, black projectile that had caused the damage in the first place. He stood at the top of the crater for a long moment, staring at the landscape around him in absolute confusion, barely even seeming to register the faint moans that had begun to float up to him from the middle of the hole, the soft, pained voice of the unconscious man muttering softly, incoherently as Mikaela looked over him.

"I…Mikaela…Bumblebee…he's not **here!**" The worry in Sam's voice did little to sooth Mikaela's growing shock, and she looked up at him from below, her own timid voice bringing his focus back to her.

"Sam…I…Sam I think you need to come down here and…hear what this guy's saying…" He blinked in confusion, his eyes falling on the man as he writhed lightly in pain, mumbling something in his unconscious delirium. Sam let himself slide down the crater – much more gracefully this time – until he was sitting beside his girlfriend once more, looking down worriedly at the man and trying to make sense of what he was trying to say.

"What is he -?" He was cut off short when Mikaela grabbed his arm, silencing him quickly, her own head turned to listen to what was being said, as if to assure herself she'd heard what she thought she'd heard. Sam simply shook his head at her, looking from the unconscious form to her, only to revert back to the man in shock when he heard, though mumbled through lips that didn't seem to want to work, his own name, laced with an edge of fear. He listened more intently, his eyes widening slowly with each word that came through clearly enough to be understood, each soft mutter of "run…" or "Sam," "Mikaela," and the most shocking of all what sounded like an attempt at forming the name of "Optimus Prime."

He grabbed the injured man's arm, shaking it gently in an attempt to wake him up, speaking loudly as he saw him jerk in obvious distress, gasping and coming slowly to a tenuous consciousness, electric-blue eyes peaking weakly, painfully from between heavy eyelids. "Hey, **wake up!** We can't understand you, what are you **saying**??? You gotta speak up!"

Mikaela seemed almost about to stop him from doing so, afraid he'd do more harm to the obviously already badly hurt male, but paused when she saw a slight coherence in the gaze of the naked man as he glanced around, soft confusion peaking through the pain in his features, his eyes finally landing on the two of them and widening in a strange semblance of recognition.

"Run…**Sam**…get…'way…run to…run to…Opt'mus…**run**!" The two stared for a moment in amazement at the human that knew their names, the name of the Autobot leader, but even in front of their eyes, they saw the consciousness slipping away from the exertion of speaking. They tried to keep him awake, tried to keep him from slipping away again for fear that he wouldn't wake back up later, but their efforts were in vain, and they could only look on as he drifted off, his eyes fluttering closed once more.

Sam stared in confusion, his eyes wide, mouth open in shock, but Mikaela looked back at him, shaking his shoulder to get his attention, an ever-increasing alarm showing on her face.

"Sam, you…you remember that **symbol**, on Bumblebee's steering wheel??? The…one that he has on his forehead, in bright red, right here???" She pointed to her own forehead, and Sam nodded, dimly wondering why it mattered. They'd both seen the symbol, on **all** of the Autobots, and had learned since they'd come to Earth that it was the symbol for their people, and how in their society it had meant the ideas of "Protect," "Freedom," and the things the Autobots stood for. Mikaela reached down and gently lifted the red streak of hair from the man's forehead, already aware that it wasn't blood that colored the stripe - having searched his head for the wound while Sam looked for Bumblebee - but the actual color of the hair. She looked back at Sam, watching his face intently as she showed him the red coloration as it went through even to the skin, coloring the flesh underneath it in the same way a calico cat's skin holds the same color as the fur over it.

Sam, on the other hand, simply found himself unable to tear his eyes from the very same symbol he'd seen on every Autobot, hidden under the man's hair but obvious nonetheless when one were looking for it, like a bright red tattoo hidden by that bright lock of hair.

"Sam…I think…I think Bumblebee's **right here**…!!!" He tore his eyes away from the symbol at the horror in her voice, his eyes widening as he met her shocked, confused, terrified gaze, and for a moment he wondered if he **hadn't** been hit in the head during the attack.

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The distress signal had reached Optimus without warning, sharp and fast, and in the exact same instance, he'd sent the order to Ratchet and Ironhide, ordering them to drop what they were doing, wherever they were, and hurry to aid their distressed comrade. His transformation had taken place in that same instance, and he'd peeled off, roaring down the road towards the location Bumblebee had transmitted, going far faster then he knew was legal in the human traffic system.

Ratchet had acknowledged the order almost immediately, ceasing his search for a suitable place to set up a permanent base camp for the Autobots, and Ironhide had followed soon after, informing his Commander that the human soldier he had taken to hiding with, Captain William Lennox, had insisted on joining him if there was Decepticon trouble involved. He'd become one of the Autobots' links to the human US government, a high-ranking soldier who had been given the assignment of acting as a middle-man between the robotic soldiers and the Military, a direct voice to the Secretary of Defense. He also seemed to hold a heavy grudge for the Decepticons; understandable, considering what had happened to him in the past.

Optimus hated for the human to be involved, uncomfortable with the idea that he was willingly putting himself in a situation where he could be killed in a Decepticon attack, but he accepted Lennox's sense of duty, and knew that if a true Decepticon attack really **were** occurring, the Military would need to know, if only to be prepared to set up a defensive incase the fight spread to the populated human areas.

He tried to continue the uplink with Bumblebee, tried to get him to respond to his inquiries of status and situation, but quickly found himself frustrated with the lack of response. The distress signal had been sent fully once, but had then been cut short in the midst of the second transmission, causing his worry and his excessive, conspicuous use of speed. It had been 6 months since they'd last seen or heard anything of the Decepticons, and though the others had begun to almost relax and hope that they had finally rid themselves of the threat forever, he had never been able to let himself feel such a luxury. He'd known it would only be a matter of time before they resurfaced and attacked, and if Bumblebee's clipped transmission was anything to go on, then he feared that the war had started once more on the small planet they'd adopted as their new home.

Though he wasn't far from the coordinates sent in the transmission, the radio silence from his young spy and the worry it caused him made it seem much farther then he liked, and he prayed to Primus, that everything was alright as he saw the smoke and dust appear on the horizon, where he feared the attack had occurred. Even through his worry and his rush to arrive to aid Bumblebee, Sam, and Mikaela, though, he couldn't help but register the appearance of a small, single-man F-22 fighter plane, soaring away from the location faster then any **human** ship could travel.

11001011101

Sam shook his head in disbelief at Mikaela's words, the concept so absurd to him that he couldn't even process it in his mind for a long moment.

"**What**??? No, that's not possible, Mikaela! You know that!" She scoffed at him slightly, looking just as disbelieving as he felt, despite the fact that she was the one who'd said it.

"Don't you think I **know** that, Sam??? How else do you explain it, though??? Where **is** he, if it's not Bee???" He stared at her blankly for a long moment, his mind not wanting to accept the ridiculous notion she was putting forth. Yet despite the absurdity of it, he found himself leaning closer to the unconscious man, grabbing his arm again and shaking him once more, though more gently this time.

"Hey…hey, wake up…you gotta…wake up, come on…!" The injured form stirred gently again, though it seemed harder now for him to regain consciousness. Sam felt stupid, everything in his brain fighting what he was thinking as he leaned over closer still, trying to be heard by the blonde-haired man. "You…gotta stay awake…B-…Bumblebee…???"

Just saying it sounded so ridiculous to him, but the figure on the ground seemed to respond more fully to it, his head lolling towards the sound of Sam's voice, and Sam blinked in slight amazement, stealing a glance at Mikaela, who was staring intently at the man. He swallowed hard, shaking his head at the impossibility of it all, and found himself once more looking at the man, saying his friend's name again, and then staring wide-eyed as those light-blue eyes fluttered half-open, looking dimly around for the source of his voice. He didn't know whether to be shocked or to think that he'd finally gone over the deep end of insanity.

Thankfully, he didn't have long to worry about the impending doom of their sanity as the loud and familiar but now-comforting sound of a diesel semi-truck's horn blasted down the highway towards them, and they both looked up in shock, even the eyes of the half-conscious man seeming to widen briefly and try to turn towards the sound before he was out again. The huge, hulking form of that gigantic, red and blue Peterbilt style semi came rolling towards them, transforming as it hit the breaks, and they heard the deep, booming voice of Optimus Prime calling out for them as he looked around the small battlefield, almost stepping in the crater before he looked down to find his foot hovering over the large crevice.

Everything about his posture said that he was ready to take down the Decepticon who had done this, but he seemed to still as he saw the three of them in the crater, confusion etching his mechanical features.

"Sam, Mikaela, what has happened here??? Where is Bumblebee???" Sam opened his mouth as if he wanted to speak, but simply glanced down at the unconscious man before them, confusion and shock on his dirt-covered features as he looked back up at the Autobot leader. Mikaela, on the other hand, seemed a bit more composed, and she scrambled to stand, kneeling long enough to slip her arms underneath the injured man and lift him up off the ground, drawing a sharp gasp and a cry of pain from his lips.

"We gotta find Ratchet, Optimus! Starscream attacked us! He did something to Bumblebee, we gotta fix it, fast, he's hurt **really bad**!!!" Optimus stared at her for an instant, perplexed by what she said, and he watched Sam stand and reach his own hands out as if to help her carry the small, prone form she held.

"What are you talking about, I don't understand! Who is this new human?" Sam just shook his head at him, looking up at the gigantic mech.

"We don't understand it, either, Optimus! Starscream hit Bumblebee with that thing behind us! When the dust cleared, Starscream was gone, and…and…we think this **is** Bumblebee!!! We gotta get to Ratchet!" Suspicion and anger sparked through Optimus, but not at the humans. He eyed the injured man they carried, his processor contemplating the different scenarios the Decepticons could have created to attack them that would involve trading a human captive for the Autobot. He couldn't imagine a human **willingly** agreeing to do anything the Decepticons ordered, but at the same time he couldn't believe that **this** human was his young soldier.

Nevertheless, he could easily see that the human was badly hurt, and knew that at the very least, he might have answers as to how he got there, and how the entire thing had happened. If he took him to a hospital, he wouldn't be able to find out what he knew, and yet he knew that Ratchet did not have the training to properly administer first aid to a human being. Still, it was the only chance he had, he feared, and despite his better judgement, he realized that if he wanted the full story, he wouldn't be able to take him to a human medical facility.

He glanced once more around them, doing a scan for the small, yellow Autobot who'd sent out the distress signal minutes earlier, and not finding any sign of Bumblebee, transformed, the door to his sleeper compartment swinging open for them, giving Mikaela and Sam a chance to climb in and lay the prone figure on the cot as he raced back to Ratchet. "Come on, get in. Let's hurry." He urged, his voice calm but strained with obvious tension, and as soon as the two humans had made it inside and set down the unconscious man, he had shut the door, racing back the way he'd come, hoping he was making the right decision.


	7. Chapter 7

There was no need to call for Ratchet as Optimus careened to a stop in the clearing they'd long since taken to using as their meeting place, causing Sam and Mikaela to cry out in surprise as the abrupt stop almost threw them on top of the moaning form laying prone on the cot in the sleeper compartment of Optimus' cab. Ratchet had already been alerted by Bumblebee's alarms as Starscream had attacked before his communications were shut off, and Optimus had, upon finding the children and the unconscious human who accompanied them, redirected Ratchet to meet in the usual place. He had arrived only a few minutes before them.

Even before Optimus had rolled to a complete stop, the door to the sleeper compartment had swung open, and the two confused, terrified humans knew it was their signal to climb out, carrying their unconscious ward with them so that the Autobot leader could transform. It wasn't a shock for them to come face to face with Ratchet as they climbed out, the injured man – still wrapped in Mikaela's shawl, for their modesty more then his own – carried between the two of them as carefully as they could manage.

"What is the situation? Optimus, what has happened? Where is Bumblebee? I expected him to bring the children!" Bumblebee's short, scrambled cries for backup had concerned the old medic – as had Optimus' subsequent orders to rendezvous elsewhere, and to find one of their number seemingly missing was not something he enjoyed. Optimus took little time in transforming, kneeling down and putting his open hand next to the two teenagers without answering the medic.

They took the signal and carefully laid the battered blonde in his hand, eyes terrified and large as they watched him stand back up, cupping both hands under the unconscious human for support and holding him out to Ratchet as if in answer.

"They have informed me that until an attack by Starscream, this wounded human **was** Bumblebee." He rumbled, his disbelief at the possibility evident despite the matter of fact way he had said it. Ratchet looked from the human he held for him to examine to his commander's suspicious gaze, confusion etched on his mechanical face.

"What? That's impossible…"

"I said the same myself." Sam couldn't help but feel the panic rise to an all new level as the thought crossed his mind that Optimus might think they were lying. Mikaela herself simply gripped firmly to the sleeve of Sam's shirt as she stared up at the gigantic mechanoid aliens, a strange expression etched on her features.

"Optimus, you have to **believe** us! I swear, we're not lying! Bumblebee was hit by a…some sort of…I don't know! Starscream shot him with something! It was huge, like…a missile! When the dust cleared, Bumblebee was gone, but…**he** was there in Bumblebee's place! He said something about escaping to **you**, and then he went unconscious! Look, he even has your symbol, under his hair!" Sam didn't know who he seemed to be pleading with more, the Leader of the Autobots or the disbelieving medic.

Optimus glanced down at Sam as Ratchet blinked in obvious surprise, looking back down at the human in Prime's hands, taking note of the flash of disheveled red hair mixed in with all the blonde on the man's forehead, lifting the patch and scanning the strange discoloration of the skin beneath.

"I do not distrust **you** Sam. It has to be a trick, that is all. In all the years of fighting, the Decepticons have never been able to create a weapon with the capabilities you describe. Nevertheless, I doubt this human would willingly agree to be used as a Decepticon pawn. He must have been – " 

"Optimus, the boy is right. This human has a strange discoloration of the skin in the shape of our emblem! Look, there." Ratchet's voice cut off the leader shortly, and it was obvious by the surprised jerk of his leader's head that it wasn't something he'd expected to hear coming from the elderly medic. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the partially-concealed patch as well, and after a moment he simply shook his head, glancing up at Ratchet.

"I do not know what game Starscream is playing at. Perhaps when the human is conscious he will be able to tell us more. He is injured, though. We must see to his wounds before we can be sure he is well enough to tell us anything. What can you do?" There was a cautious tone in Prime's voice as he spoke, and Ratchet nodded, continuing to scan the unconscious, though obviously pained man, even as his moans of pain seemed at times to grow louder.

"It does not appear to have any **life threatening** injuries. The shortness of breath appears to be caused by the pain of fractured ribs and clavicle, and there are numerous contusions and abrasions, but I do not detect any internal hemorrhaging or ruptures. The human's jaw appears to be dislocated out of place, but I do not have delicate enough instruments to correct the dislocation. I am only equipped to repair Autobot injuries, and I would be afraid of injuring him further was I to try."

"What would need to be done to correct the issue? Will it be necessary to transport the human to a hospital for first aid? It would risk being unable to question the human afterwards, but if we had to, I would allow him to be taken to a human Emergency ro – "

"No, no, it is not severe enough at this moment to require that, and I agree: to transport the human to a medical facility, we may lose the ability to question him after he has awoken. Give him to me." He had obviously already been researching the first aid techniques and needs for a human who had sustained such an injury while Optimus had been speaking, and Optimus nodded, carefully depositing the limp form in Ratchet's hands, eliciting a feeble cry of pain.. "All I need is to reposition the jaw in it's correct alignment. However, as my hands are far too large for that, I will need assistance in the process."

The way he looked down at Sam and Mikaela as he said it made the blood instantly drain from the boy's face. The sounds of distress being made by the unconscious form, whom he still believed was Bumblebee, as ludicrous as it sounded, were already enough to make him feel nauseous. The thought of popping a dislocated jaw into place and causing even more pain made him freeze, as he sometimes did in the worst of situations, despite himself.

"Ratchet, I can't…I don't know the first thing about…what if I hurt him **more???**"

"Nonsense, I will instruct you, Sam, I simply cannot do it with my own hands. It is a simple procedure."

Sam simply shook his head, staring blankly up at Ratchet, his feeling of nausea only growing. Mikaela, though, seemed to come out of her quiet, bewildered shock as he hesitated, stepping out from behind him. "I'll do it Ratchet. Let me see him."

The large bot kneeled down to her, holding his hands out to her a few inches above the ground, and she stepped closer, her eyes gazing timidly at the battered man he held. She felt confident enough that she could what he instructed her to do – she'd learned a little about first aid in her health classes at school – but that still didn't mean she felt comfortable hurting the already seriously-hurting man. Nevertheless, she nodded, reaching a hand out to rest it on the blonde's arm as if in an attempt to calm his agonized moans and gasps for breath. "Ok, what do I do?"

"Alright. Simply hold his jaw in both of your hands, with your thumbs behind the back teeth, and push it down firmly until you feel it pop back into place."

She swallowed what little fear she could as she sensed Sam shuffling up nervously behind her, staring over her shoulder, and reached out with gently trembling hands. Even her gentle touch brought a soft cry from the injured man, his brow furrowing as he jerked as if to get away from her despite being unconscious, and she jerked her hands away, glancing back at Sam. "Sam, hold his head for me! He's going to hurt himself more!"

Her boyfriend stared at her in a somewhat shell shocked expression before nodding weakly, moving to the side of her and reaching out, biting his lip as he held the man's head, doing his best to avoid the painful jaw and hold him still at the same time. The man's eyes fluttered softly as he was restrained, pale blue irises flashing from between the barely-opened lids, but he didn't come to full consciousness, and Mikaela nodded to herself, taking a breath and reaching out once more, gripping his jaw the way she'd been told.

He tried to struggle softly once more, but Sam's grip tightened despite his worry, and perhaps out of fear herself, Mikaela acted quickly, pushing on the man's jaw, ignoring as the pain it caused sent him into more and more violent reactions, his voice rising in volume and his body jerking sharply until she felt a firm, but rather sickening "pop," the jaw setting back into place.

Unfortunately, the pain was enough to bring the man to full consciousness, and shocked, terrified blue eyes shot open, the expression changing in an instant to one of rage as he screamed, lunging violently enough to throw them off. He instantly leapt for the first thing his eyes landed on, and Mikaela gave a startled shriek as she found herself tackled to the ground, a hand squeezing roughly against her windpipe as the man pinned her to the ground with a surge of adrenalin, his fighting instinct taking over. She fought to breathe as she clawed at his arm, and stared wide-eyed as he lifted an arm as if to punch her, only to shriek and fall back, clutching at his ribs in agony as the fractured bones sent sharp pains through his body with the movement of his arm at such an extreme angle.

The action lasted only for an instant, and when the blonde's eyes finally opened from the agonized grimace, he stared at the arm he'd been intending to strike her with as if fascinated, soft moans escaping his lips at each struggling breath. His movements seemed confused, bewildered, as he flexed his arm, gasping in pain as the muscles flexing around the broken ribs tore at him painfully. He didn't seem to notice those around him, or even Mikaela still pinned underneath him for that matter, until Sam stepped closer timidly, eyeing him with a mixture of fear and curiosity on his face.

"…Bee…?" The blonde looked up sharply, and the fear in his expression was evident even to the large Autobots who had stepped closer when he'd attacked, refraining from tearing him away from Mikaela only because of the abrupt change in his demeanor, the obvious way his own bruised and injured body had seemed to snap him out of the instinctual way he'd leapt to the attack.

"Sa-AH!" The human cried out sharply as he tried to speak, his hand going to the recently reset jaw, and he curled up against himself, pained whimpers escaping his closed lips as his eyes skewed shut against the sharp, shooting agony he felt when he tried to talk. Beneath him, Mikaela didn't seem to know what to do, pinned as she was while he sat on her stomach, the shawl they'd used to cover his nakedness long since thrown off in the struggle. She eyed him cautiously, not moving, though her eyes glanced up at the others standing above them questioningly.

The loud, ground-shaking thump of a large mechanical foot barely seemed to register with the pained young man, and it wasn't until Optimus was kneeling beside the three tiny Earthlings that he looked up, seeing the Autobot for the first time since he'd awoken. The expression on his face was a strange mixture of shock and fear and relief, and he sat up straighter, staring up at Prime even as he was looked back upon, his confused expression met with a stern, suspicious, but non-confrontational gaze.

"These children claim to know you. They say that **I** know you. Do you know who I am?" for a moment, the only response he received was a trembling whine as the human began to tremble, and even the gigantic leader of the Autobots could see the tears creating tracks in the grime covering the man's face. But finally he nodded, distress and confusion expressed in the way he gazed at Optimus.

"I suspect you will experience discomfort when attempting to communicate with us, but we need to ask you a few questions. It is important for us to know what transpired approximately a half an hour ago. Do you feel like you can communicate in your present state?" Again a pause, the human's eyes darting back and forth as if floundering for understanding of his situation, and then despite the pain he must have felt in doing so, he gave a sharp, strangled laugh through clenched teeth, groaning and cringing at the discomfort before looking back up at Optimus. When he spoke, he did so through a tightly clenched jaw, one hand pressed firmly against it as if doing so relieved some of the pain, his words mumbled as a result, but for the most part understandable.

"I…can't…I don't…see…a radio I can use…but…at least I – oooh…I still have my **voice**…Sir…" for a moment, the humor in the situation seemed to escape the others around him, but then a sort of disbelief crossed even Optimus Prime's features, and he stood up, silent for a long moment. When he spoke again, the question was short, to the point, as if simply to confirm what had already been implied in the man's response.

"What is your name?" The human tried to laugh again, but the sound couldn't hide the sob that accompanied it, his demeanor beginning to slip farther and farther into distress.

"B - …Bumblebee…Sir…It's…I'm…**me**…! Optimus, Sir…**please**…what's…what happened…to me???" Ratchet made a short sound, almost like a human scoff or gasp, and he looked at Optimus, shaking his head.

"This can't be right, Optimus! This **has** to be a Decepticon trick!" The only response Prime gave, though, was to the humans what sounded like a series of electronic shrieks, clicks, and buzzes, and though it wasn't anything a human would have been able to understand, it was obvious that it had been directed at the human "Bumblebee."

He shook his head in response, confusion etching his features. "I…can't…I don't understand you…it's too…high…and too low…I can't understand what you said!" though mumbled through clenched teeth, his voice was beginning to take on a distinctly panicked tone, his trembling only increasing as his anxiety level rose.

Optimus processed what he'd said for a moment and then the sound came again, more complex to the humans' ears, and it became obvious to the three that things that had been too high or too low on the range of sound had been adjusted to match the range of human hearing. It drew a soft cry of relief from the man, and he nodded sharply, an attempt at a smile crossing his pained features.

"I understand you, yes, of course I know our language! Yes, I am Bumblebee, I am loyal to **you**, Sir! I don't know what happened to me! Everything is…everything is changed, I can't…I don't know what's going on!" Ratchet's attention was instantly drawn to the human on the ground, shock written on his features, and though Sam and Mikaela were unable to translate what must have been Cybertronian speech, it was obvious to them that the human Bumblebee could and had, and had answered what had been said to him by their leader.

Not even Optimus was able to hide the shock caused by what this meant. No humans were capable of understanding their language, and the fact that this one was could only mean that he was, as unbelievable as it sounded to each of them, telling the truth about who he was.

Optimus knelt down once more, holding a large hand out to the now much-smaller Bee, who – after staring at it for a moment – realized his intentions and rose, staggering over and dragging himself into the hand, pulling his knees up to his chest gently as his leader stood back up, taking him with him. Mikaela pulled herself off the ground, glancing at Sam before they both turned their concerned eyes back up at the human in Optimus' hand.

"Do not allow yourself to be alarmed, Bumblebee. Stay calm, and tell me: Do you remember what happened before you sustained these injuries?" His voice no longer holding the suspicion it had before, he spoke to the Spy in a soothing tone, recognizing that he was succumbing to stress and fear, an understandable reaction in light of his situation. Bee nodded softly, as though not entirely sure he truthfully did or not, but attempted to speak of what he did nonetheless.

"Sam, Mikaela, and I…we were out by…the highway. Jumping a sand dune. Playing. I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have been lax in my duties. Perhaps if I'd done my job I would have –"

Optimus cut him off, shaking his head as he heard Bumblebee's tone rising to a frantic, upset sound, finding a way to blame his current state on himself. "That does not matter now, Bumblebee. What happened at the sand dune? How did **this** happen to you?"

Bumblebee shook his head, one hand pressing against his forehead as if it hurt to think, as if he were having problems remembering what had happened. He sighed as he glanced back up at the concerned features of his leader, his jaw still tightly clenched together to avoid too much pain.

"I…Sam alerted us to the approach of a human flying vehicle…I looked up, and…I saw…I knew it was Starscream…He was transforming in mid-flight…I tried to…hide the children, to keep them safe…and…then I tried to communicate with you, to call for backup…but…he dropped something…**shot** something at me…I…tried to fire it down, but…I missed…and…the -…the last thing I remember is being hit…and…feeling pain…all over my body…I couldn't **move**, Sir…It hurt so badly, I couldn't move! And…and then I…can't remember anything after that…" He seemed to wilt, as if his explanation didn't seem adequate enough for him, as if he were ashamed of his inability to recall what had truly happened. Optimus, though, simply shook his head soothingly, both hands cupping gently together against Bumblebee's back to create a sort of protective pocket around the unhappy human, looking down at the children.

"Sam, Mikaela, did you see what happened after the attack?"

"Not much. Everything was dusty, whatever they hit him with blew a hole in the ground, it was hard to see. When it cleared, Starscream was gone and we found him…we found **Bumblebee** in the middle of the crater."

"And you said that the object in the crater when I found you was the weapon Starscream had used? It is imperative that we retrieve that object, determine what it is and what it did!"

"Yeah, that's right, it was in the middle of the crater near Bee! Everything went by so fast, but I remember that!" Optimus nodded at Sam then, glancing at Ratchet and holding his hands out for him to take the human Bumblebee from his grasp.

"Ratchet, I'm going to investigate and see if the weapon is still there. Keep Bumblebee and the children safe until Ironhide arrives, and then you rendezvous with me at the coordinates Bumblebee transmitted before his communications were interrupted."

"But Optimus, what if the weapon does the same thing to you? We need to be careful, we don't know what it is or how it works!" Despite his words, he took Bumblebee in his own hands, cradling him close to his chest unconsciously.

"That's a risk I have to take. We need to know what it is they've done to him, and if they intend to do it again! If anything happens, I want you to contact me immediately! Ironhide and Captain Lennox will be here shortly, until then, stay under the cover of the trees: If they can't see you, then hopefully the Decepticons won't be able to attack you like they did Bumblebee, if that's truly their intentions." Before he was even finished saying it, he'd transformed into the familiar red and blue Peterbilt, and without waiting for an answer, he tore off through the forest, making his way towards the location of Bumblebee's last electronic communication.

Ratchet looked down at the trembling, cowering Bumblebee in his hands for a long moment, scanning and processing the information regarding his health for a long moment. Finally, he glanced down at Sam and Mikaela, kneeling down closer to the ground. "I'm going to transform. You three climb inside. If there is trouble before Ironhide arrives, we'll need to make a quick getaway." He placed Bumblebee gently down on the ground, Sam and Mikaela each grabbing an arm and helping him to his feet, supporting his uneasy weight between them as carefully as possible to avoid causing him too much discomfort to his broken ribs. In an instant, Ratchet had transformed, and the rear doors to the Hummer 2 Search-and-Rescue vehicle had popped open invitingly. They climbed in, helping Bee inside, and shut the doors behind him as they led him to lay down on one of the stretchers inside, covering him with the thin, almost useless sheets covering the medical stretcher.

100101110101110

It didn't take Optimus Prime long to return to the scene of the crater, and once there he transformed out of his Earth form, approaching the large, dark object cautiously, his sensors scanning it for any signs that it might still be live and go off with him around.

Fortunately, the object seemed, for the most part, to have been used up in the attack, it's miniscule energy-well seemingly only meant to hold enough power for one use. It didn't mean that he was any less weary of it, though, and he stepped down gingerly into the crater, kneeling beside it and looking the object over, inspecting it.

In all his years of the war, he'd never seen anything quite like it, nor had he ever encountered a weapon with the capabilities this one seemed to possess. His rational processor still found it hard to accept the fact that this Decepticon weapon had turned his loyal, young spy into the tiny, human creature he'd left behind with Ratchet and the children, but Optimus **knew** that no human had the ability to understand Cybertronian, even when it was spoken in the human range of hearing, and that short of a human under the employ of the Decepticons, the only way one could possibly have know what he'd said in the language would have been if what the human had told him was true.

He shook his head, one hand rubbing gently at his jaw in thought as he tried to calculate any possible way it could still be a Decepticon trap. He felt certain that there was no way a human would live long enough around the Decepticons to learn their language, let alone be used as a spy to replace the Autobots' own spy.

And neither of those options explained what had happened to the **real** Bumblebee, if the human weren't actually him, or explained how the young adult human himself was so sure of who he was. The body language of a human who was actively engaging in deception was easy to detect for an Autobot, their physical bodies gave away every attempt at falsehood they made. In the blonde man, Optimus had detected none of the signs of lying, only fear and confusion and what was worryingly similar to shame.

Even that, he thought dimly to himself, was very much like the Bumblebee he knew. He had always driven himself to succeed in everything he did, to prove to himself that he was a good soldier and worthy of being an Autobot. It was no secret that he looked up greatly to the older soldiers, and was always striving to be accepted as one of them, despite the fact that he already was. As a consequence, he sometimes made somewhat unwise decisions, taking on a task that was too great for him to handle or trying to fight in a fight that was far too outmatched for him to safely engage in. The fact that Bumblebee had seemed to try and find a way to blame himself for what had happened was something he would not have been surprised to see in the young Autobot had he been in his real form.

Optimus couldn't find the desire to be angry with Bumblebee for wanting to spend the day "playing" with Sam and Mikaela, he was young and it was natural for sentient beings of his maturity level to want to engage in entertaining social activities, especially when they were finally given a chance at peace after fighting for so long. Even so, he wasn't the least bit shocked at the thought that Bumblebee would feel he'd let Optimus down in not having been more alert to possible Decepticon activity and thus had allowed himself to be attacked. It wouldn't have mattered to Bumblebee that they had **all** been doing their best to keep an eye out for any signs of activity from their old foes, it would only matter to him that **he** had been the one to be attacked in the moment he had let his millions-of-years of combat experience take a break from being his sole focus.

Besides, Optimus knew Bumblebee had long-since taken a liking to the humans of Earth, especially his two young wards, and he had a sinking suspicion that if anyone had thought up the idea to emulate the stunts preformed by the daredevils of Earth, it would most likely have been Sam. Bumblebee had experienced much more exhilarating thrills in his years as a soldier then simply launching himself from a ramp, and would have done so more to bond with his tiny human friends then for any real excitement.

Optimus gave a soft, perplexed sigh to himself, reaching out to the spent projectile in front of him and carefully plucking it from the ground, weighing it in his hand. All-in-all, it must have been around 8 feet long, and as wide as his forearm; certainly large enough to cause the kind of harm Bumblebee had suffered if it had been fired at him from a close range, at a high velocity. Though he didn't recognize the actual device itself, there was no denying it had a distinctive Decepticon design. It weighed heavily in his grasp, heavier then he would have expected, and the residual energy signals he was detecting from it were oddly familiar, reminding him of something that he couldn't quite place.

He switched to the direct communications channel with Ironhide, glancing down the road in the direction he'd come from as if he could see all the way back to the hiding place he'd left Ratchet and the others from where he was. "Ironhide, what is your status?"

"Nearing the lookout. Captain Lennox is with me, ready to send a communiqué to his Commanders should it be needed. **Is **it needed?" Optimus shook his head though Ironhide wasn't there to see it as he stepped out of the crater, his large feet easily moving over the piles of metal and rock and sand that littered the ground around him.

"Not presently, though perhaps it **was** a good idea of him to come. We may need to alert the Military to a possible threat. I need you to rendezvous with me. I have found the device used in the attack, but have no way to transport it in my Earth form. Ratchet?" The Chief Medical Officer's response was quick to come as Optimus switched to the open communications line. "I'm here, Optimus."

"Ironhide will meet me at my location to help transport the device. It seems to be undamaged. I want you to stay where you are until we have arrived. What is the status on the humans?"

"Sam and Mikaela are attempting to keep…"Bumblebee" calm. He appears to be suffering from psychological distress and low levels of shock, but otherwise they are fine." It was obvious by Ratchet's tone that he wasn't finding it any easier to accept what was staring him in the face then Optimus was, and the Commanding Mech didn't blame him. Ironhide, on the other hand, responded with a touch of confusion and, especially for Ironhide, a surprising amount of concern in his voice.

"What's happened to the youngling? I wasn't able to establish a connection with his communications signal after his S.O.S was cut off."

"…Perhaps it is best if we let you see for yourself. It is…'complicated.'" Even as Optimus quieted the older Mech's questions, he could hear the loud growl of an engine not dissimilar to his own approaching from the distance, and it wasn't hard for his optics to make out the large, black Topkick as it flew down the country road, leaving a cloud of dust in it's wake.

Ironhide pulled up to a stop beside his leg, the driver's side window rolling down as William Lennox stuck his head out, looking up at the gigantic Autobot Commander, eyeing the object in his hand.

"I hear something's happened to the Bee, are the kids alright?" He watched as Optimus walked behind Ironhide, waiting as the bed-hatch split down the middle and folded away, allowing him to put the projectile into the "truck's" bed before folding back up around it. Optimus nodded in reply as he knelt close to the ground, meeting him at eye-level.

"Sam and Mikaela are alright, and I believe Bumblebee will be fine. But it is best if we hurry. I will explain when we meet up with Ratchet and the others." Lennox nodded, watching the red-and-blue alien folded around himself, shifting into the familiar flame-painted Peterbilt beside them.

"Alright. Let's go, 'Hide." He patted the outside of the door before pulling himself back into the cab, eliciting a low, though subtly good-natured growl from the Weapons Specialist-in-disguise, and had the situation been any different, Optimus might have chuckled at the small exchange between the two. As it was, he simply let Ironhide peel out in front of him, following closely behind to cover his back as they made their way back to Ratchet and the humans.


End file.
